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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28075671">The Cruelest Love in the World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Billy Hargrove Is a Scumbag, Car Sex, Child Abuse, Codependency, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Possessive Billy Hargrove, Post-Season/Series 02, Pre-Canon, Step-Sibling Incest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28075671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After presenting as an alpha, Billy insists Max will be his one day. His omega. Max has her doubts.</p><p>-</p><p>“It’ll be easier when you present. It’ll be different, you’ll see.”</p><p>“You always say that.” Now Max turns her head towards him and opens her eyes. They glare, but they’re almost to the point of overflowing, so the glare amounts to nothing. “What if I turn out to be a beta? Or an alpha? You always say I’m an omega, but you don’t know that.”</p><p>Billy knows that because it cannot be any other way. Caught up in the hurricane of hormones and emotions during that Little League game, her very essence had called to him. He was ready to tear across the dusty field, climb the chain-link fence, fight anyone to get to her. Even mindless in his first rut at the community center, he howled for her. Max will be an omega, his omega, because that’s how it’s got to be. If he’s an alpha, then she’s his other half. He can’t see it any other way, grinds his teeth as they stare each other down. She doesn’t believe him, never does.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Maxine "Max" Mayfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So glad I managed to write this story before I lost the magic. I'd love to write more alpha/alpha Maygrove stuff in the future, if the magic ever comes back. Maybe throw Steve or El in there, who knows.  Maybe comment below WHO you'd rather see in the threesome with alpha Billy and alpha Max: omega Steve or omega Eleven (Eleven and Max would be aged up, because boy am I tired of writing underage lol). I just *clenches fist* love ABO shit. </p><p>They start out pretty young in this. Part one showcases three vignettes. First one, Billy is 13 and Max is 9. Second one Billy is 15 and Max is 11. They're their S2 canonical ages for the last one (17 and 13 respectively). Billy is, uh... a wee-bit unhinged in this. Not as unhinged as I can make him, oh no, not by a long shot. But unhinged enough where you know 95% of his advances towards Max are unwanted, thus the non-con tag. You'll see how that unwanted attention eventually turns into codependecy lol.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Quiet settles over the bungalow for the first time in a week. Dad and Susan are at the VFW, welcoming the calm and normalcy. The house is empty save for him and Max. It’s calm here for the first time since Billy had been taken to the community center for three days to learn about… himself. Three days. Three fucking days of being sprayed with pheromones to calm down, to sit still, to stop lunging at adults trying to help him. Three days of terrible burning under his skin, of pain in strange places that would not subside no matter how he touched himself or rutted against something. Now Billy knows that’s what it’s called: a rut. The physical changes are all thanks to that sudden alignment of his instincts. Dad always bragged he’d turn out like this. Expected it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not Billy’s fault he’d presented in the middle of a Little League game and bloodied the noses of three teammates. The only reason Dad isn’t beyond pissed about Billy getting kicked off the team for excessive violence is the outcome of that one, overwhelming moment in the outfield. When Billy curled up on his knees in the dirt and sparse grass while he soaked the immediate area around him with the pungent musk of an alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad is almost proud of him, now. It’s not the sort of pride Billy had hungered for a few years ago. He doesn’t care at all what Dad thinks, what Dad’s plans are now that he’s this. Billy has his own plans that have been hounding him and screaming down his neck the moment he collapsed during the game. Because Dad made Susan and Max come to the fucking game. The entire time he roamed the diamond like a junkyard dog, his eyes always found Max in the crowd. He even tried to get to her before some adults tackled him. He woke up later alone in the community center. Screaming for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lurking outside Max’s bedroom door, fisting his hands to the point of pain, Billy doesn’t know when this had started. What caused it. He’ll blame her, because it must be her fault. He wasn’t like this before the Mayfield women intruded on their lives. They’ve only lived together for a year. The house barely fits them, not intended for another child who needed her own room. Can’t room a little girl with a wild boy like him. He already pulls her hair, shoves her, all manner of childhood bullying. When did it change, though? When did it change to sneaking into her room and watching her sleep? When did it change to poking around her room when she wasn’t home just to touch her things. Because he could. Because he could do whatever he wanted to her. Because no matter how Max whines and complains about him, no one listens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s even worse, now. Since coming home from the community center, freshly branded an alpha, the aggression has only escalated. All week, Max tiptoed around him without much success. She’s not safe in her room, in the kitchen, or even playing on the streets. He always finds her even when he doesn’t mean to. Popping up to scare her, to send her fleeing like a little rabbit from his jaws. Or lying in wait until she delivers herself right to him. The itch under his skin to snatch her up, hold her down, make her his in some way is never far from his mind. Like right now, brooding under the thundercloud above his brow as he listens to Max play with her toys on the floor. She’s probably still sporting a bruise on her side where he trapped her against the door frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just yesterday Max had made a run for her room from the kitchen when he caught her getting a snack. He didn’t know she was there, just walked in minding his own business when a switch flipped in him. It told him to get her. So he did, chasing her back to her room squashed between his and their parents’. Max tried to close the door on him, but he wedged her against the doorframe until she kicked and screamed that he was hurting her. Running to mommy, she lifted her shirt and showed Susan the angry mark on her side. Dad brushed it off, saying it was normal for Billy to become territorial. That Max would have to be more careful. And despite Susan sharing a look with Max, she just pet the poor little girl and sent her on her way. Now, there’s no one to hear Max’s screams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Billy smacks a hand into Max’s door, it nearly ricochets off the wall. Only some shoes and a jacket or two stop it. Max startles on the floor with her small collection of naked Barbies and stuffed animals. The only reason she’s not tearing it up outside is because Neil had ordered for them to stay inside. So Billy could watch Max. Leaving a thirteen year old in charge of a nine year old isn’t a smart idea. Not that Billy objected, unable to deny the warmth that blossomed in him while watching their parents leave. Promising to be back in a few hours. That was maybe ten minutes ago. Long enough for Billy to try to stay away. To make an earnest attempt at just listening to music and lounging in his room while the itch under his skin just grew harder and harder to ignore. The adults at the community center who taught him about his new biology and the changes in him didn’t mention this. The overwhelming focus on Max and needing to be near her, to touch her all the time. Max knows she’s in for it, so she pops up from her toys and shoves her little hands at his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out,” she barks. “Leave me alone, Billy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you don’t wanna play with me?” he sneers, smacking her hands away from him. The way she flinches back, face crumbling for a split second, fuels him like never before. The itch intensifies as he advances on her. “That’s not very nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Backing Max into a corner or a wall has been one of his favorite activities for the past year. It’s different, now. He doesn’t understand it on the surface. Some part of him understands why he does it, why it makes him feel good. Not questioning it, Billy just stalks forward until Max trips against the edge of her bed. Socked feet slide out from under her. She lands on her rear, glaring up at him and yet cowering. Her false bravery tickles him even more now, stirs up something in him that almost has him purring. He does that, now. Some sort of rumble in his throat he made at the community center when someone pet him until he was calm. He wants that from Max, will wrestle her to the ground to make her do it. Twist her arm, break her toys, whatever it takes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go away,” she tries again as Billy squats down in front of her. She could dart to the left or right to escape him. They know he would catch her before she cleared the door. So Max hunches down and lifts a leg, ready to kick him. “I’ll tell my mom on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huffing a laugh, Billy reaches for that foot already raised and snatches Max by her ankle. He drags her on her back closer to him, towering above Max as she grits her teeth. To hide the wobble in her chin. Because she knows he won’t stop, isn’t afraid of her threats. And there’s no one here to stop him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t care,” Billy murmurs with his own glare heavy on his face. He yanks Max’s ankle harder, tugging her under him. His other hand tangles in the bottom of her tank top and yanks it up to expose the purple bruise on her side. Despite Max’s smaller hands batting and scratching him, he doesn’t drop her shirt. “She just rolled over when Dad blamed you. Your mom doesn’t give a shit about you, nobody does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ankle in his hand jerks to free itself, Max squealing, “Let me go, stop, stop it, Billy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Stop it,’” he whines back at her, sinking to his knees on the floor. Closer to him, now, Max freezes and tries to curl up in a ball. “You don’t even mean that. If you really wanted to get away, you would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tries to kick at him again, this time with the other foot. Baring his teeth at her, Billy shackles that ankle, too. He’ll leave bruises as he squeezes thin, pale skin against the knob of bone. Harder and harder until his knuckles bleach bone-white and Max stops struggling altogether.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Billy stop,” she whimpers. “I’ll play with you, just stop, that hurts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something inside him unwinds. Something that had tightened like a spring as he stalked outside her bedroom, waiting to barge in, finally relaxes. It’s a relief, and he actually does gentle his hands at Max’s ankles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea? You mean it, you’ll play with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red eyebrows coming together, confused, Max gives him a few jerky nods after a breath. She’s smart; she knows it’s not that easy. They stare each other down as Billy takes to squeezing her ankles again. Gently this time. Just feeling how delicate she is in his hands. He could hurt her for real. Had wanted to before that Little League game. Now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says lowly. “But we’re gonna play my game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He says nothing to that, just guides her legs to the floor. Her shorts are tiny. Mint-colored because she rejects anything that’s pink. Already a tomboy and she probably doesn’t know what that word means. It will be interesting when she presents—whenever that is. It’s a thought that’d kept him sane while rolling in sweaty sheets at the community center. He wanted to get to Max, to find her, to just… hold her. To rub himself all over her until he soaked her in the thick scent leaking out of him. It’s strongest at his neck and jaw. Oily. He’s meant to mark his things with it, or so the adults at the center told him. He was made to watch videos on alpha biology, behavioral changes, and sexual changes. His interest piqued at the latter, especially when the adults taught him how to scent mark. At that time, he understood what he wanted to do to Max—hold her down so she can’t get away and make her his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’ll be his eventually anyway. He’s known that for a while now, just understands it better now that his instincts are alive and demanding he respond accordingly. Max will be an omega. He’s sure of it. Why else would he want her so badly? She’s an annoying, shitty little kid who is always whining about something. Even now lowering himself on top of her with his hands bracketing her head, his upper lip threatens to twitch into a snarl. Because she’s still fighting him, always fighting him. If she would just stop putting up this tough act and do as she’s told, stay out of his way, she’d be more pleasant to be around. It’s not his fault. She’s the annoying one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop moving,” he bites out, about to tangle his thick fingers in her hair and pull until some strands pop free. “Play nice, Max, just stay still.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But her hands push uselessly against his shoulders as she squirms, whines, “Get off me, Billy! I don’t wanna play like this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sees red, has his left hand wrapped around her throat before he knows what he’s doing. Humid breaths pant in her face next. Max’s flinch and chin trembling fill his vision. He’s full of her. It’s not enough; he needs more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you start crying, I’ll hurt you for real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Always fighting, she whines, “You’re already hurting me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She starts to scream just as his fingers dent the pale skin of her neck. Pressing down until the firmness of her windpipe jumps in his palm, Billy squeezes harder and harder. Max’s little body jolts like she’s stuck her finger in a socket. She writhes with her face turning red, nails catching in the skin of his arms only to leave welts behind. He doesn’t feel it, is only aware of his heart pounding in his hands and the overwhelming need to make her submit. Why won’t she do it? He must be doing something wrong. She’s meant to be an omega, this should come naturally. Growling, Billy slips from his knees to his belly and traps Max under him. He’s always been taller than her, more so now that he’s starting to grow up and out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His grip around her throat relaxes enough for Max to grunt, “You’re… crushing me!” When Billy doesn’t budge, just stares down at her, Max’s green-blue eyes water. “Billy…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That same savage pleasure that’d bloomed in his stomach when Max backed away from him sours completely, now. Because she’s actually scared now, about to cry even though she knows it will only anger him more. Despite his hand at her neck, Max cowers more and shrinks down to as tiny as she can while pinned under him. Her tremble ghosts up his arms, rakes nails over a chalkboard in his head. Because he’s supposed to protect her, isn’t he? That’s what the adults at the center said. That he’ll want to protect his family, blindly so—and then he promptly informed them he didn’t have any family and to buzz off. But now that Max is whimpering and trying to hide under him…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy tears his hand away from her neck, tucks his face to that delicate spot instead. Max sucking down a breath is the crash of a plate on a kitchen floor. Deafening him and making him startle on top of her. Max gets her feet wedged into his hips, ready to kick him off her. She doesn’t, though. Not with him rubbing his scent on her and snuffling so quietly in her neck. Despite him turning oddly gentle, Max remains tense under his bulk. Trembling the whole time, flinching when Billy shifts his weight. Besides brushes of his jaw on her, he is completely still. Max’s shaking winds down, down to nothing as the silence stretches on. All Billy’s aggression seeps right out of him. It leaves him winded, irritated at himself, but Max whimpering draws him right back in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be quiet,” he snaps, voice cracking. His cheeks flush from the embarrassment, but it’s a private sort of embarrassment. Max cannot see him where he snuffles against her throat. “Just stay still and be quiet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So soft in his ear, Max asks, “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scenting you,” he grumbles with a rub of his jaw up Max’s neck for emphasis. His short curls, not to his neck yet, must caress her, too. Max wiggles below him like maybe it tickles. “It’s something alphas do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chest tight like a hook pierces his flesh and yanks him to her, Billy presses his mouth over the flutter of Max’s pulse. It jackrabbits into overdrive as he nibbles that spot and smears kisses to it. He’s beyond himself, now, doesn’t know why he’s doing that part or how to stop. He doesn't want to, uses the leverage of his weight to rock into Max’s body. Christ, if he’d only had access to Max for those three days. This is infinitely better than fucking his hand. He’s not even in rut and this is better. Max is still too tense for Billy to fall all the way into himself, though. So even though he groans against her pulse, Max goes right on shaking under him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Billy stop, you’re being weird.” Max shoves at his shoulders. They don’t budge. “I don’t wanna play this game, get off me, you stink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring her cry, Billy whispers into Max’s neck, “You’ll understand when you’re older. You’re gonna be an omega, you’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max dares to tangle a hand in Billy’s hair, dares to make like she’ll pull on his curls. She’s never been so bold, must truly fear that he’ll hurt her. He’s torn between whining to show he won’t or snapping his teeth at her. It’s too many confusing emotions at once—the need to make her understand but also comfort her. So he sinks his teeth into her pulse and holds her down. When Max actually does tug on his hair, springing moisture into Billy’s eyes from the pain, he unhooks his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy hisses in her ear, “Let go or I’ll bite you for real. I’ll mark you right now, Max, and nobody will ever touch you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Little fingers twist harder in his hair, her thin body bucking under him as she finds bravery again. Foolish bravery. “I’ll tell my mom on you! You’ll get in trouble!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When are you gonna figure out she doesn’t care about you,” Billy grumbles mostly to himself, tired of her whining. “She sits at the dinner table and watches me push you around. She doesn’t give a shit.” He shudders on top of her with another bite to her pulse. Each whimper he catches in his teeth winds a spring tighter and tighter inside him. Something about them together, about her and how little she is. How weak she is. Maybe he’ll understand one day. “Not like me. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s little belly jumps under him when she lets out a single bark of laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lying. I know you hate me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t,” he insists, kissing her pulse now instead of biting it. Billy’s hands on Max’s squirming hips tighten despite all his weight already slotted between her squishy thighs. “It’s different, now. Things are gonna be different. You’re mine, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No I’m not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huffing his own laughter into Max’s neck, Billy kisses her one more time before sitting up. She meets his eyes for a split second, pink blush splotchy under her freckles. Max may grow up to be a pretty girl. Like on TV. Right now she’s blinking back tears and sniffling despite snot shining under her nose. Her hair is a mess because she hasn’t combed it yet. She could use a shower, too. Billy isn’t the only one who stinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting all the way up and off her, Billy snaps, “Get up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Max tries to put on a brave face, scowling at Billy through the wobble in her chin, Billy just rolls his eyes. His hands will bruise her like a peach when he grabs at her shoulders to haul her up himself. He’s stronger, now. It’s the hormones, the adults at the center had told him. He’ll bulk up easier than other boys his age, run faster, run longer. All that stuff. Before presenting, Max could almost hold her own against Billy’s shoving matches. Childhood strength and her shortness on her side, she could slip out of his grasp or aim a kick at his balls to get him to stop. More than once he has folded like a lawn chair, cradling his bruised pride in his hands. Only to pay her back ten fold later. Now, though? Max thrashes like a rabbit caught in a trap. But the trap of his hands is iron in her skin, and he will not let her go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy grunts and hisses while he wrestles Max where he wants her. In front of her pile of toys, he settles her between his legs. He hunches behind her, threading his arms around her. Holding her. Whatever Max expects him to do, she freezes in his arms. So confused when he goes right on nuzzling her and just rubbing himself on her back. Her messy, frizzy hair is annoying, though. Max needs to take better care of herself. Especially if she’s his. He can’t have her looking like trash. So he sits up from hunching into her and glances around her room. On her little vanity chested drawers, a comb sits. He hisses in her ear to not move as he pops up only long enough to snatch her comb. Max already rolls onto a thigh to crawl away when he plops back down. Billy is swift to yank her into his lap once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment Max’s comb sinks into her hair, she cries, “What are you doing?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Combing your hair since you’re too stupid to do it yourself.” More to himself, Billy scoffs with a roll of his eyes, “Useless omega, need me to do everything for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop saying that, I’m not an omega.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy’s free arm around Max snaps tightly around her, jerking her hard to his chest. His other hand goes right on combing her hair. He’ll need to use both to pick knots out of fiery strands. It’s bad in some spots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will be, you’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know that,” she mumbles, fighting him even now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy’s lips caress her little ear when he growls, “I do know, Max. Just wait and see. You’ll be an omega, and then you’ll be mine. It’s just how things work.” He slips his arm from around her, sure that she won’t try to get away, and holds the badly knotted part of her hair in his fist. It will hurt less this way; a small mercy. “I’m gonna sit here until Dad and Susan come back. So just play with your dumb dolls, and you’re not gonna tell them about this. It’s none of their business what we do. Understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She mumbles something under her breath. Something that sounds like sass back, so Billy lets the comb rip into Max’s hair. She squeals when he holds her head back by her hair, frightened eyes finding his despite the odd angle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked you if you understand. Omegas answer their alphas when we’re talking to them.” He pulls her hair harder, only stops when fresh tears pool in Max’s eyes. “Say you understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max cowers for a breath more, trembling so hard in Billy’s arms. It sets his teeth on edge, some instinct in him about to nuzzle and comfort her. She has to understand how things are going to work from now on. From now on, she’s his. So Max had better get used to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Max,” he grumbles in warning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flinching, Max gives him tiny, jerky nods with her tangled hair still caught in his ugly fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. You better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy shoves her head forward, back where it belongs. When Max just shakes with her shoulders hunched, he sweeps her hair away from her neck to kiss her. Now he can comfort her. Like he’s supposed to. She’s done what he wanted, what he expected, and now he can comfort her. If Max just sits there stone still, holding a doll tightly to her chest, Billy doesn’t say anything. She never goes back to playing while Billy combs her hair and then returns to scenting her when that’s done. When car doors slam shut maybe an hour later, Billy shoves Max out of his lap when he stands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At her open door, Billy pauses just as the lock to the back door rattles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You remember what I said. Don’t tell Dad and Susan.” His eyes narrow with a twitch of his upper lip. Max barely meets his eyes for a blink before she turns away. Red hair shields her, but Max flinches when he growls. She’s listening. “Not a peep from you. Or I’ll make you regret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And even though Billy slams her door shut, almost how he’d found it, it takes everything in him to tear himself away from her. Flopping belly down on his bed, Billy shoves headphones over his ears, turns AC/DC as loud as it will go, and burrows his head under his pillow. If he closes his eyes and just goes still, he can smell Max. The sweetness of her sweat, girl sweat, and the oiliness of her not washing in a few days. He lies there for hours, not moving to flip the cassette in his Walkman. If he moves, he’ll run straight to her room. He knows it. So he lies there with his skin on fire and the one person who can soothe him just a wall away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not the September thunderstorm rattling the windows that stirs Billy in his bed and has him stalking down the hall to Max’s room. They’re long past the childish fear of thunder. He doesn’t slip into her room, closing the bedroom door silently behind him, because he thinks she’s scared or needs him. Billy comes and goes through Max’s room like it’s an extension of his room. Her bed is an extension of his bed. She’s his. Max’s back is to him when he stands at the edge of her mattress. She is asleep one second, breaths barely shifting her blanket. And then she is awake, going completely still. Billy lingers with both feet on the floor until Max relaxes. She knows it’s just him. She can smell him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Move over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely has the first word out and already Max shuffles over to make room for him. Always the outside spot. At first so she couldn’t sneak away. Now it’s just ‘his’ spot. Billy flicks the covers back and slides in. Max gives him a little, sleepy whine when he loops an arm around her. Dragging her tightly to him, Billy tucks his knees behind hers and presses out all the space between them. She’ll probably wake up with his erection poking her. It’s nothing new. He usually wakes up hard, with or without her. If he were anyone else, maybe he’d wear more than just boxers when they sleep together. But Max is his, so he’ll do whatever he wants with her. Like now as he slips blunt fingertips under her sleep shirt so he can hold her skin-to-skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Billy nudges hair off the back of Max’s neck to kiss and nuzzle her, Max mumbles, “Leave me alone, I’m on my period.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grumbles right back, “You think I can’t smell that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max tries to roll away. When Billy denies her, bites her nape a little she grunts, “You’re disgusting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could lock the door. But you don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s a curious development over the years. She’s eleven now, will be twelve in a month. Sixth grade is a rough time. She smiles less, leaves her room less. Seeks him out more. It used to be that whenever Billy would stomp into her room and insist on scenting her, Max would put up a fight. At first until he scratched or bruised her, snarling her into submission. It took less and less coaxing for her to sit in his lap and just behave, be a good omega for him. She hasn’t presented yet, but that does nothing to deter Billy. He knows what Max is, and her seeking him out proves it. It’s not always her bedroom they sit in or her bed they sleep in. He will blink awake sometimes to the suction of air as she opens and closes his bedroom door. When she tries to curl up against his back, Billy always wrestles her over him to sandwich her between him and the wall. Even in his bed the outside spot is his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d just break the lock,” she sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t broken the lock on the bathroom. There’s nothing stopping me from climbing into the shower with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has her there, and Max hunches her shoulder higher to block his access. She’s only been in bed for maybe a few hours. Long enough for their parents to fall asleep down the hall. Still, her hair is an awful tangle. Always is as of late. When it’s cool enough for a jacket, Max walks around with her hood up. Billy suspects with a sour twist in his gut that someone is bullying Max at school. He can do nothing about it, would do nothing about it. If not for his possessive side rearing its head at the thought of someone bothering what’s his. So Billy slips his hand out from under Max’s sleep shirt and tries to comb his fingers through her hair. He snags on a knot immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t let your hair get this shitty since you were a little kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max rolls the shoulder she’s not lying on as if to nudge him away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s it to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again her neck he growls, “Is someone bothering you? You have to tell me if that’s happening, Max, it’s important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why so you can beat them up for me? Oh my brave knight in—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s as far as her sass goes. Growl rattling from the top of his throat, cracking like his voice, Billy snatches Max’s shoulder and rolls her. In a tangle of limbs and her knotted hair, she flops onto her back and then throws her hands to his chest. Always shoving or scratching. Her nails are bitten even shorter than his, though, so her fingertips merely skate across his bare chest. Across muscle bulking up faster than ever before. He breathes a certain way and gets stronger, it seems. At least now Max gives up struggling once Billy lies down on top of her. He won’t do anything, won’t knock her legs open like he usually does when he needs her close. Max isn’t taking care of her hair or the rest of her. It’s not just blood he smells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When was the last time you showered?” he scoffs, ignoring the way her eyes are tightly shut in fear. “Jeez, you stink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk,” Max mumbles between tight lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I smell like I’m supposed to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Max says nothing to that, just remains tense and vaguely trembles under him, Billy bites back a noise of frustration. When Max gets like this, digging her heels in and turning tight-lipped, snarling at her does nothing. She just doubles down. They’re stubborn that way. So, Billy spreads his weight out more evenly on top of Max and goes about nuzzling the rat nest of her hair. Leaning his weight on his right elbow, Billy frees his left hand to pet her hair, too. When that becomes too much for his little omega, Billy draws his hand up and down Max’s arm instead. Thick fingers hook under the short sleeve of her sleep shirt and tug it up to get at more milky skin. It’s touch she needs. She needs to feel connected to him to relax and let him take care of her. If only it weren’t in the middle of the night Billy would carry her to the bathroom and stand guard while she showers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he shifts down her body until his lips are level with an ear, asks quietly, “Who’s bothering you at school? Give me names.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter,” she whines just as softly back, turning her head from Billy’s breaths. “Just… just let it go, okay? You don’t really care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy kisses under Max’s ear despite the tackiness of her skin, the oil, and murmurs, “I’m the only one who cares, Max.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice grows a little thick when she whines, “You got a funny way of showing it, asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy huffs in her ear and kisses her again. She needs a shower, but he can’t stop nuzzling and cuddling her. He’s meant to comfort her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be easier when you present. It’ll be different, you’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You always say that.” Now she turns her head towards him and opens her eyes. They glare, but they’re almost to the point of overflowing, so the glare amounts to nothing. “What if I turn out to be a beta? Or an alpha? You always say I’m an omega, but you don’t know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows that because it cannot be any other way. Caught up in the hurricane of hormones and emotions during that Little League game, her very essence had called to him. He was ready to tear across the dusty field, climb the chain-link fence, fight anyone to get to her. Even mindless in his first rut at the community center, he howled for her. Max will be an omega, his omega, because that’s how it’s got to be. If he’s an alpha, then she’s his other half. He can’t see it any other way, grinds his teeth as they stare each other down. She doesn’t believe him, never does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy’s left hand cups Max’s jaw to hold her still. She flinches like always, knows what’s coming. At the start, she’d neglected dental hygiene too to try and deter him. He threatened to hold her down and pour mouthwash down her throat, so she stopped with that foolishness. Max’s green-blue eyes slam shut as he bows down slowly. So long as Max keeps her teeth to herself, this will go smoothly. Like her cheek, Max’s jaw is oily under his hand. Blemished on her chin. He pays that no mind, slots their mouths together the same as the hundred times they’ve done this before. It takes a few plush kisses, press and pull of their lips to get Max to kiss him back. She’s still clumsy when he licks the seam of her lips, let me in, and opens for him. No more fighting. Just their breaths melding into one, tongues dragging over each other. When it started to feel good and make his blood sing, Billy isn’t sure. He just relishes Max’s shiver and quiet whimper when he lets her go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See?” He pecks the corner of her mouth nice and slow, lingering. “I’m the only one who cares about you. No one feels this way about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His slim pelvis nudges into her. Nothing more than that, the tang of her blood is almost stomach turning, but he needs her to understand. Billy’s hand is confident when he goes back to petting Max’s hair out of her face, tucking tangled locks behind her ear. Trembling hard again, Max turns her head. She probably doesn’t understand the significance of this. Baring her throat to him. She will, he’ll make her understand. He bows his head to that offered flesh, even if unintentional, and nibbles at Max’s pulse. Max gives a jolt under him. Her hands finally come to life and cling to his naked back as he bites and sucks at that sensitive spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Billy,” she gasps. One hand paws at the curls just above the nape of his neck. “S-stop, Billy, stop, you’re gonna nnnn…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t leave marks. Not yet. He knows that, buries his frustrated growl in her throat. Nosing the loose collar of her shirt out of the way, Billy sinks his teeth into the crook of Max’s neck instead. Lower than her pulse. Less likely that Susan or someone will see, although he will refrain from marking her even here. It will only take one possessive mark on Max to sound the alarm. Dad—and by proxy Susan—tolerate Billy’s familial bullying of Max because ‘boys will be boys’ and ‘alphas will be alphas.’ No doubt exists in Billy’s mind that Dad doesn’t give a shit about Max. He turns a blind eye too much, even before Billy had presented. Susan cares in some way. She just cannot get her head above water. Billy has lived under Neil’s oppression his entire life. He knows better than anyone to just go with the flow. Don’t rock the U.S.S. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hargrove</span>
  </em>
  <span> unless you want a watery grave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max squirms and breathes a little hard when Billy sits up. His teeth hurt, needing to bite, to tear flesh. Billy works that tightness out of his lower jaw, cracking it as he stares down at Max in the dimness of her bedroom. The clouds from the storm rumbling outside cast them into darkness, but her nightlight provides them a bubble of soft, yellow light. He would ridicule her—almost twelve and still afraid of the dark—but the light is a gift. Like this, the splotchy flush in Max’s cheeks and the submissive turn of her eyes down fuel the alpha in Billy. Protect her. Don’t let anyone hurt her or touch her. She’s his. She knows it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still sat up, Billy brushes a stray lock of hair from Max’s forehead and murmurs, “Look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not quite a command. He’s getting there. He needs his voice to settle into a range and stop cracking all the fucking time. In this delicate moment between them, Max on the edge of understanding his care for her, a command isn’t necessary anyway. Nervous eyes blink and then flick a glance up at him. When they dive away just as quickly, Billy nudges Max’s jaw. Up. Look at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to tell me when someone’s bothering you. Whatever they’re saying, whatever they’re doing to you, it has to stop. I’ll find out one way or another, Max. You don’t want that. You know what I’ll do to them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s punched kids’ teeth down their throats for lesser crimes. Someone encroaching on his omega, though? The hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end until they sting. Max may not get the picture, but all of Billy understands. He won’t be responsible for pummeling a bunch of middle schoolers because Max couldn’t speak up. Nipping it in the bud is better than letting it go on. The longer Max keeps quiet? The more broken bones there will be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, fine, it’s the Lowry twins. Happy now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, but he will be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are they doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s face twitches, rebellious, but she soon huffs and looks away from him. He allows it. She’s obeying him, so he’ll allow it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just stupid crap, it doesn’t matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly it does. So tell me what they’re doing. Now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tiny flinch tears its way through Max after his barked order. She cowers under him again, so Billy lies back down to smother her in his scent and warmth. It’s only when her trembling subsides again that she sighs in his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just kid stuff. That I’m ugly and how I don’t have any friends. They know you’re a psycho, so I get yelled at about that, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Middle school is rough. Not for him; he’d breezed through it. Especially once he presented. Freshman year has been a cakewalk thanks to his status. Nobody fucks with him. They’d be incredibly stupid to try, and no one has been that stupid yet. These Lowry twins though…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a dumb omega, but you’re not that dumb. Stop listening to what shitty kids say to you, because they’re wrong. You’re not ugly, and friends are a pain in the ass. You don’t need friends, you have me. That’s all you need.” He snuffles in her neck again, hum almost turning into a purr when Max offers herself without protest. Finally, no fight from her. Billy shuffles them around when he’s had his fill of her, tucking himself tightly to her back like at the start. He holds her flush to him and murmurs, “Now go to sleep. You’re gonna take a shower when we wake up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not a request. Max sighs and sags in his arms, though, so he drops the conversation. He watches her closely the next morning at breakfast. Over a bowl of soggy cereal she doesn’t even want, Max trades glares with him. Her hair is pulled back into a thick braid. The strands are soft, shiny from how clean they are instead of oily. He’d awoken without her, took the time to rub himself on her pillows and the teddy bear she still sleeps with. So she’ll have some part of him when he doesn’t make a midnight trip to her room. It pleases him in a deep way when, the following night, he doesn’t get the chance. Max is all knees and elbows when she climbs over him, no sound when he wraps himself around her and scents her all over again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His skin has been alive and charged all day. It’s a rut coming, he thinks. The summer between sophomore and junior year means to bake him dry like the earth under his boots. He’ll be seventeen in October. So close to freedom. So close to prying himself out from under Neil’s thumb. It’s a pipe dream for the time being, though. He won’t leave without Max, hunts for her now around the neighborhood. Dinner is soon, and he’s ‘responsible’ for her, according to Dad. She’ll be thirteen before Billy turns seventeen. She doesn’t need a babysitter, in Billy’s opinion. Dad burdens him with this task, because Dad knows he fails more often than not. No matter the close watch Billy keeps on Max, no matter how he keeps tabs on where she’s going, who she’s with, she slips his grasp most times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Max’s disappearing acts amuse him. Naughty omega, playing games with him. Not today, though. No, because last night while climbing on top of her, rubbing himself on her harder than usual he’d… picked up a scent on her. Someone else. Another alpha. Another alpha in her hair, on her arms. Too much of someone else on what’s his. Billy’s frayed nerves cannot help but conjure all sorts of terrible images in his head. To think the worst, that Max would allow another alpha to touch her, has him seeing red already. He has to find Max. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a blur as he rounds a corner in their neighborhood to the vacant lot she frequents. There’s just enough flat concrete from an old foundation for teens to turn it into a skate spot. She’s there, leaning on a brick wall of an adjacent building. Taller, broader than her with an arm curled above her, an alpha chats her up. If Billy were not already on edge, he’d read her disinterest and annoyance clear as day. When the alpha reaches up to play with her hair, jumping when she snarls at him, it’s all Billy can take. Max’s head whips around when Billy stomps onto the pavement, but it’s far too late to stop him. This train is coming off the tracks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just his fists pummeling into cheeks and temples. The pain ghosts over him as knuckles bash into skin and bone. They stumble in the dirt snarling and spitting and biting. Billy pays no mind to his skin crying out under teeth sinking into his arm. Two quick pops to the other alpha’s gut makes him give that up. He staggers, winded, but Billy advances. Mindless to the screams of kids and Max, Billy gathers the alpha’s t-shirt in his fists and acquaints his thick forehead to the other’s nose. It gives the most satisfying crunch, blood bursting, and Billy throws the boy to the ground. He bounces, rolls, and yet still Billy pursues. Dirt and rocks dig into his knees as he straddles the other alpha, Billy’s fists come away bloody. It’s not until all movement ceases under him that he breathes in the charged musk of a fight. Max hovering near him cuts right through it, and he’s back on his feet like a shot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone screams for adults. Some teens like him are smart enough to split the scene. It’s what the logical part of Billy’s brain screams at him to do. To avoid trouble with adults, Dad. He can do nothing more than stagger drunkenly towards Max, grab her by her upper arms, and yank her to him. She grimaces at the gore on his hands. There’s blood on his lips, his blood. The other alpha had gotten some bops in on him. He was no match for Billy. Even if Billy weren’t tripping on the edge of a rut, he was no match. Not when it comes to defending Max, his claim. Billy clutches her perhaps too tightly to him as sirens ring out, drawing closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Billy, we have to go, the cops are coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t move, though. Every fleeing body around him is grounds for a glare and snarl. The danger—what little there’d been—is over. He’s locked into overdrive now, though. It takes cops spraying him with something to knock him out. Otherwise he’d angle his teeth and fists at them, too. The last thing he sees as he crumbles to the ground, about to drag Max with him, is her panicked face. All he wants to do is reach up and cradle her pretty face, smooth the fear pinching her eyes. The thought doesn’t cross his muddled mind that she’s afraid of him. For him, perhaps, but not afraid of him. He tries to mumble that she’s safe, that no other alpha will ever touch her, now. He beat the shit out of that kid. It all washes away like waves rolling over footsteps on a beach, though. He has her one moment. The next, he awakes in a holding cell. Dad on the other side of the bars. Arms crossed. About to blow his stack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the ride home, Billy’s skin still itching with a rut but not blossomed yet, Dad explains what’s happened. Billy beat the other alpha unconscious, yes, but more than that. Both his eye sockets were broken, nose shattered into dust. The kid is missing some teeth, pumped from his stomach. His face may never fully heal, may never look like it did before today. Dad anticipates trouble. Billy is grounded for the rest of the summer, keys to the Camaro already confiscated before Dad ever left to pick him up. Even when Billy tries to grumble and explain what happened, Dad smacks him upside the back of his head. It’s enough to cool Billy’s jets until later that night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witching hour strikes the silent house. Silent except Billy’s room where he struggles in his sheets with fire under his skin. His rut chooses this hot night to finally explode out of his skin after building all day. It doesn’t happen too often, not a monthly cycle like he’s some sort of chick on the rag. It has dragged oily fingers up and down his spine all day, now strikes a match to those trails until he’s an uncontrollable inferno. Tripping and almost crawling at times, he escapes the confines of his room, no dinner for him, and pants heavily outside Max’s door. Tonight would be the night she finally locks him out. He grits his teeth to not scream as he tries the handle. He’ll break the door down if it’s locked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not. The knob twists under his hand as easily as any other night. Even though Max had watched him beat that kid. Even though Max surely smells the fire under his skin. She’s the only one he shares it with, the only one who is worth it. She’ll be his omega one day in body and title. She’ll be the tight clutch he finds relief in. Every other rut since that first one he spent alone, he crawled into Max’s bed when it struck. Never fucked her, just rubbed against her, grabbed her hand and made her squeeze her little palm around his knot. After the fight, though? After charging onto the skate spot, throwing the other alpha away from Max, and showing everyone who’s top dog? Her dainty hand won’t be enough. He needs more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s awake, hands sliding on his sweaty chest as she pushes at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Billy don’t, go back to bed.” He leans harder into her, climbing on top of her despite everything. “Jeez you smell…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need you,” he slurs against her forehead. His hips rock into her, trying to worm their way between her thighs. “Max…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh billows under his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really messed up today, Billy. That guy wasn’t even bothering me, he—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snapping his teeth at her, Billy bears all his weight on Max and hisses, “He touched you. You didn’t want him to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to beat the snot out of him, Billy!” Now she struggles, huffing and grunting as it gets her nowhere. “You’re gonna get in so much trouble. What if they take you to jail, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thought worms into his muddled brain. He grows still on top of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did Dad know where I was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She freezes, too. The thought in Billy’s head burrows deeper, encouraging passion to mold into betrayal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… somebody had to tell the cops who you were, where we lived. Whatever they sprayed you with knocked you out cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stomach sours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you ratted me out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s trembling starts slowly. She’s a smart girl, reads the atmosphere loud and clear. He’s gone from snuffling in her hair to lying stone still on top of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t! I-I didn’t mean it like that. What was I supposed to do, lie to the cops? What was I supposed to tell Neil when I came home without you?” When Billy says nothing, fists tight in Max’s sheets, she trembles all the harder. “I didn’t do it to rat you out, Billy. I didn’t know what else to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course he’s furious. Teeth on edge in fiery hair, he’d like nothing more than to drag Max over his knee by wavy locks and beat her ass red. It’s a fitting punishment for an omega acting out. Her betrayal is bitter bile in the back of his throat. Billy’s rut competes for space in his brain and under his skin, though. It’s like vomiting orange juice: acidic and sweet and burning all in one. Shuddering as a wave of heat washes over him, Billy holds Max down by her shoulders to sit up. She shivers, too, but he knows it’s not because of the little breeze that spills over her. No, she won’t meet his eyes, only flicks tiny glances up at him in the dark. No nightlight anymore. Just the moon spilling in from her window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever happens because of this, you know it’s your fault, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flinches, bites out, “How is it my fault?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy’s snarl is in her face almost before the last puff of air leaves her pretty lips. Max’s bravado melts right out of her. She’s back to trembling and turning her head away from his fury, bearing her throat whether she realizes it or not. A thrill runs through Billy. Pleased at her show of submission. Shoulders hunching like a beast, he bows his head to mouth biting kisses to her throat. It’s his. All of her belongs to him. She still doesn’t see it, doesn’t understand her betrayal. Billy won’t hold it against her, though. She’ll never do it again. He’ll make sure of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have handled it myself,” he hisses. “But you roped Dad into it.” He growls in her face, eats up the tiny whimper she tries to hide, and then gentles. Nosing at her forehead to soak up Max’s fright, Billy murmurs, “You’re gonna make it up to me right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still as hard as when he’d stumbled in here. Her door is locked, the house muffled. He’ll slap a hand over her mouth or just fuck her from behind, face shoved into a pillow. Distantly, Billy recalls a little bottle of lotion in the drawer of Max’s nightstand. An Avon lady had handed it to her as a sample while completing an order with Susan. Worthless bullshit women spend their money on. But Max had kept it. They’ve used it before during his ruts to slick up her thighs to let him fuck them. They’ll need it again tonight, although not for Max’s inner thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy sits up and off Max again when she asks, “How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The drawer barely makes a whisper when Billy slides it open, shuts it again once the lotion is in his hand. He stuffs the sample bottle under one of Max’s pillows for safe keeping. There is the matter of her sleep shorts to deal with first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Straddling Max’s hips—when will they grow out, he wonders—Billy snatches one of her wrists. In the dark, he guides her hand to the front of his boxers despite her flinch and rubs himself on her palm. She knows he’s hard, knows what the musky scent choking her bedroom is. When he’s done with her, he’ll have to crawl to the window long enough to shove it open. Lest their parents catch wind of which bedroom Billy’s rut stink comes from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna make it up to me,” he repeats, lower. A warning to behave. “Take your shorts off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s wrist flinches in his grip. It’s better than a tug. She hasn’t fought him like that in a year or two. He knows she likes it, just puts up a fight to be a brat about it. Always fighting. It’ll be better for her when she presents. They won’t need lotion or spit or anything else. Like a drooling dog, he’ll be able to smell her dripping with anticipation. Ah, her heats… Another shiver tears through Billy. He can’t wait for that, to soothe the burn in her like she’s about to do for him. Billy releases Max’s wrist just to pet his hands up and down her thighs. His fingers slide up and under the leg holes, but they do not reach higher than her thighs. He watches the wets of her eyes from on high, waiting for her to get to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Billy… I-I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s gonna hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irritation flashes hot through him like water on a frying pan. It just as quickly evaporates, and he goes right on petting her thighs. He squeezes them too, just shy of pinching them. The lines in his palms eat up the shiver Max gives him. She likes this, he knows she does. Max’s mouth lies constantly, but her body tells the truth. Now Billy’s hands slide all the way up her shorts, worm into her little panties, and gently paw at her. She jumps, and her hands zip to his wrists. A growl in her face is enough to cow her, quivering fingers slipping away from his wrists. Billy stays in Max’s breathing space as his fingertips pet up and down the crease where Max’s thighs meet her body. She’s not hairy yet. He’s waiting for that, too, waiting for so many things with Max. Tonight he’ll check one thing off the list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing his fingers into the soft center of her, Billy murmurs, “You can take it. We’ve been practicing, I know you can do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He means of course holding her at night while dipping a hand down the front of her panties. Scrambling at her little mound, he always reaches farther down to pet his fingers between her legs. Slicked with spit from one of their mouths, Billy shushes Max when he wiggles a finger into her. As time goes on, she accepts him easier and easier. He can fit two fingers in her without much coaxing. Just some bites and kisses to her neck, his other hand slipping under her side to pinch her nipples. Her body doesn’t know how to respond to him yet. Too young, too little. He needs her right now, though. He’ll make it good for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s eyes flash in the dark as she throws a glance down her body. As if she senses his thoughts, knows he wants to devour her. Maybe she does. She’s his, afterall, knows him better than anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve never gone that far,” she says so soft, so quiet in the dark. Afraid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It twists something in Billy’s gut. It’s one thing to growl and back Max into a corner because she’s being a bitch and needs to be put in her place. It’s another thing for her to fear him when she’s done nothing wrong. If she fears him now, she’ll fear him every time in the future, too. He doesn’t want that, slips his hands out of her clothes to cup her cheeks. He thumbs under her eyes, relishes the soft coo she gives him. The longer he pets her and soaks her in his comforting scent, the more she relaxes. There’s no fight in her when Billy bows into her breathing space again and presses light kisses over and over to her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it,” he hushes between those kisses. “That’s my good omega, just relax for me. You know I’m not going to hurt you, Max.” Billy’s knees slide out from under him until he slots his hips between her splayed legs. He almost groans when his erection rubs against her, but he bottles it into a shiver. They share that electric energy as Billy whispers against her mouth, “Move with me, baby, it’s okay. It’ll feel good, I promise, I’ll make it good for you, need you so bad Max.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Max’s arms curl around his neck, almost shy, Billy rewards her with little kisses to her throat. Her thighs bracketing his hips squeeze him for a breath. All of Max goes stone still. On the next roll and rock of Billy’s hips against her, Max rocks back. Up and into him, against the bulk of him pinning her down, Max meets Billy’s rhythm. Not as hard as he’d like, but it’s something. Max’s voice tinges her quiet panting in Billy’s ear. It feels good, he knows it does, even if her body is younger than his. It’s natural, what they’re doing. What he’s about to do to her is natural, too. She’ll see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hands almost frantic as they tug at Max’s shorts, Billy groans in her neck, “Take these off.” A jolt spears through him, and he grinds himself harder between Max’s legs. “Fuck need you so bad, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max says nothing, maybe whimpers a little from how hard Billy rocks into her. Maybe it hurts. Billy doesn’t believe that for a second. It’s just new for her. They’ve never done this facing each other. Rut screaming down his neck, though, Billy cannot hope to gentle the snap of his hips. Even as Max slips her arms from around his neck and shoves her shorts and panties off, Billy seeks friction. Max grumbles at him, her first noise of objection in so long. Billy’s teeth sinking into the crook of her neck mutes that attitude, has Max shuddering hard under him instead. Blind in the dark safety of Max’s throat, Billy’s hands scramble at her legs to shove her clothes out from between them. Shorts and underwear slipping over the edge of her mattress, she is bare from the waist down. Billy matches her with a hiss of frustration as his fingers hook in the elastic of his own boxers to rip them off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally naked, finally so close to what he’s wanted for years now, Billy slots his hips back between Max’s thighs. The brush of skin on skin is delicious, almost too much. It’s only at the last second, jaw aching from holding back a moan, that Billy muffles himself in Max’s neck. Already this soothes some of the ache under his skin. It will only get better once he hikes her legs up and slides home. Where he belongs. Hand shaking like he’s in shock, Billy slips it under Max’s pillow to snag the lotion. He pops the cap, fragrance washing over them and tickling their noses. Max flinches a little at the sound and smell, and her thin arms wrap around his neck again. Sweet omega seeking comfort from her alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy shushes Max and murmurs encouragement to her as he slicks up his fingers. Spit won’t be enough. Max isn’t old enough to respond to him like how she should. She will soon, especially once she presents. He’s counting down the days to when he can press his face to her little mound and lap sweetness that will drip out of her. Shuddering and groaning just from the image of it in his head, Billy slips his slick hand between them to wipe lotion on her. He could just plunge right into her and seek his relief. That would hurt her, maybe sour Max to them doing this again and again. He can’t have that despite his rut howling that he pin her down, take her, fill her up. His knot will be a lot for her. So Billy bites the inside of his cheek to control himself and glides sticky fingers into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jumping under him with her arms going tight around his neck, Max whimpers, “Billy that hurts…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She should be grateful he’s using his fingers first. Billy presses his weight on top of Max to still the timid tremor running up and down her little body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t hurt for long,” he breathes. Her body is a vice around two fingers. She squirms on them, although it’s a useless motion. He’ll have her tonight. “Just relax, I know you can do it.” He nudges his nose through red hair spilled over Max’s face to find her lips, mouthing harsh kisses to them. “You’re gonna feel so good. I can’t wait to be inside my omega, so good for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She whimpers, though, and snaps impossibly tighter around him. Mindless to the way Max’s nails dig into his upper back, Billy picks up the pace of his hand. Lying on top of her like this makes for a cramped working space. He can’t quite smack his knuckles into her like how he wants. Just to feel her shake, to hear skin hitting skin. No matter. He’ll slather lotion on his dick in a moment and get to enjoy all the pretty sounds Max will make for him. She’s always so quiet when he fingers her. Sometimes she slaps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. He longs for the day where they don’t have to muffle the sounds they make together. He wants to hear her scream his name instead of whimpering it. One day she will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Billy sits up, slides his fingers out of velvet tightness, Max scrambles at his neck. A shiver pets over him, his omega needs him, so he bows his head to nuzzle her back to her pillows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Behave,” he warns from the bottom of his throat. “This doesn’t have to hurt, just be a good omega for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The palm of Billy’s right hand rasps as it slides up Max’s inner thigh. He holds her down like that with his dick in his left hand. Lotion coating it in the dark, he imagines he would make quite the site for her. It isn’t often that they actually see each other naked or anywhere close to that state. The nature of their entanglement demands subtlety and caution. Hands wandering under clothes and under blankets, too risky to bare Max to his eyes if they need to scramble for cover. If Dad were to find out, Billy knows there’s nothing he could do to get Max back. There would be consequences, perhaps ranging from being kicked out of the house or sent away from Max. Maybe Susan would leave his old man. As much as that would amuse Billy to no end, just imagining someone taking Max away from him sends his upper lip twitching. He schools it lest Max pick up on the tension trying to wind him up. He will have her, but he can be gentle about it. So long as she behaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Palm starting to sweat on Max’s inner thigh, Billy murmurs, “Relax,” as he rubs the blunt head of his cock up and down the seam of her. Spreading fresh lotion around will hopefully stop their skin from sticking together. Max bottles a noise in her mouth, afraid, and he nuzzles her. “It’ll feel good, just relax. Not gonna last long anyway, thought about this too much, waited so fucking long baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rambles, can’t stop himself as he tenses and pushes forward. Max’s nails dig into his naked shoulders. Her sharp inhale is a smack to his face. Billy has a split second to wipe his hand on her thigh and slap his palm over her mouth. Pink lips already part around a shout when Billy gathers the pathetic noise and guides it right back in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shoving Max’s head down hard, Billy growls, “You wanna scream like a little bitch? I’ll fuck you like one, just try it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s little nose above the bend of Billy’s thumb sniffles wet and disgusting. She whines under his hand and paws at his chest. Whether she means it as appeasement or wanting comfort, he doesn’t know. He takes it as appeasement, his omega submitting to him, and shifts forward to press more of him into her. Max’s next whine is high and desperate, vibrating against his palm. He stills with maybe half his dick in her. It’s good for him just like he knew it would be—tighter than he can make his hand, silky soft, perfect. The lotion makes all the difference, glides velvety skin deep into Max despite how she squirms and digs her nails into him. When he’s flush to her pelvis, grinding into her a little to make sure she’s full, Billy lets out a huge sigh. His shoulders relax. He almost slouches. Instead, he bows above Max and sweeps his left hand under her shirt. His fingers are tacky from lotion when he circles a tiny nipple and pinches it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max jumps on his dick, flinching and tightening around him. More whimpers tickle his palm as he starts to roll his hips back and forth, playing with her nipples at the same time. She’s starting to grow breasts. They’re tiny things right now, barely enough for him to paw at like an animal. Shoving her head to the side, Billy flattens Max to her bed as he bows down. He wants her neck in his teeth, her pulse pounding against his tongue. His hands grow clammy with sweat as he shoves wildly into her, hips snapping back and forth, back and forth. Hard enough to make the lotion sticky between them. Hard enough to make filthy sounds between them as he thunders into her. Billy’s bitten-back groans threaten to drown out the sounds of them together. He pants as everything inside him grows impossibly tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>About to burst, overwhelmed with her, Billy slurs against Max’s neck, “I love you. Max, baby, fuck I love you,” and sinks his teeth into her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d said he wouldn’t last long. He doesn’t as Max arches off the bed and shrieks into his palm. Sharp teeth command her to be still, to lie there and let him find release in her. Already that release winds up like a shot, ready to take off. Billy’s eyes would roll back in his head if he could keep them open. Max is too tight, too perfect around him for his eyes to stop fluttering. He groans into her neck and smacks his hips hard enough to jar her once, twice. The base of his cock starts to swell, his knot, and he grinds it into her before it’s too big. Max chokes on her next scream. Her nails are ten, tiny knives in his upper back as she holds on. It must hurt, how full and stretched she is. Billy cannot turn back now, not with his hips jerking as he comes in her. The first time of many, he promises somewhere in the hazy background of his orgasm. He’ll fill her up again and again until she can’t get enough of him. She’ll understand one day—that she’s his omega and he’s her alpha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Being locked in Max, grinding into her to feel more. Someone has opened a door inside him and let out all the tension and heat in him. The moment he stops shaking as he comes, the itch under his skin vanishes. Billy tunes back into himself slowly. How heavy he is on top of Max, how he sucks down huge breaths against her neck. Winded, he unhooks his teeth only to kiss and lick the indents. Hopefully they’ll be gone by morning. They have school today. And with his rut satisfied, Billy has no reason to beg off school. Max may want to try, though. She is quiet and dead weight under him, barely breathing. Maybe he’s crushing her. Billy peels his hand off her mouth, slips the other away from her little tits, and pushes his chest off her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s nails scratch over Billy’s skin as her hands fall away from him, dead weight just like the rest of her. Just enough light leaks from the window for Billy to pick up her splayed body. Her sleep shirt is shoved up to her collarbones thanks to his fondling. He can’t help himself, still locked in her, when he lifts a trembling hand to her chest. Thick fingers drum over a little nipple, teasing it hard again. Max flinches back to life, tries to curl up, and then jolts hard where he’s sunk into her. She can’t escape him, couldn’t even before he popped his knot in her. They’ll be stuck like this for a minute or two more. A shiver rakes icy fingers up and down his back. He welcomes the chill as both hands sweep up and down Max’s chest. Her belly heaves with each breath she sucks in, trembling as she forces down her crying. Billy knows she’s crying. She can’t hide the way she sniffles and shoves at her cheeks with her heels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop crying,” he grumbles. “I didn’t even hurt you that bad.” He pops his hips forward just to feel her whole body go tight like a bowstring ready to snap. “I know it was good for you, Max, don’t lie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Little fingers graze the backs of his hands where they rest over her ribs. Max whines softly in her throat and then tugs on Billy’s wrists. Not to push him away, no, but… seeking him. She needs his comfort right now. Like earlier when his instincts had driven him to comfort her, Billy bows down slowly. He tries not to shift inside her while nuzzling Max’s cheek, tear tracks still fresh. She whimpers again in his ear and then slips her arms around his neck. Billy finds her lips, shushes Max’s timid flinch, and then presses delicate kisses to those bitten petals. Max’s mouth tenses at first. Resisting. She gives in after a few laps of his tongue, shares a soft moan with him when they deepen the kiss together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max still flinches with every shift of him on top of her. Her discomfort won’t last much longer. Already Billy’s skin unwinds the last of the tension steamed into him from his rut. It may be a matter of seconds before his knot goes down enough for her to push him out. Max certainly wiggles and tenses around him like she wants him out. She does this when he dips his fingers in her too. Squirming like that only helps her to fuck herself on him, though. Billy shushes her between lippy kisses, leans his head out of range when Max just whines at him. Her hands rise back from the dead to reach for him. He snatches little hands before they touch him. Lacing their fingers together, Billy presses Max’s hands into the bed. He holds her there, licking filthy kisses into her mouth when he finally pops out of her with a gush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lying flat on his belly and naked, Billy only bats a hand at Max when she rises some time later. He’d rolled off her and landed face-first in a pillow, intent on sleeping. Max brushes his seeking hand off her, unlocks the door, and then slips away. Billy holds his breath, ears straining for the familiar creak of their parents’ bedroom door. If she rats him out again, he’ll tear her to pieces. If he can’t have her, then no one can. The squeak never comes. No, the distant thunk of the toilet lid hitting the tank and then the seat when Max is done reaches his ears. Water running for a long time. Max must be cleaning herself up. Billy grumbles about that, would rather trap her to his chest and let her soak in the filth. He’d worked so hard to make her smell like him. He’ll scent her again before they fall asleep. The moment Max tiptoes in, locking her bedroom door behind her, Billy snatches her up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like every night they sleep together, Billy arranges Max how he wants her. She is a pliant doll in his hands. He actually pauses while spooning up behind her. Her compliance sets him on edge a bit. Nosing at the shell of her ear to tickle her, Billy’s confidence blossoms once more when Max shuffles and flicks a hand up to defend such a sensitive area. His hum is rich, pleased as he curls an arm over her waist and snuffles under her hair. She does him the service of scooping red locks off the back of her neck. Out of Billy’s way. Offering herself. Heart skipping a beat, Billy bites her nape twice. Once down low and then once high near her hairline. Max shivers both times and gives him a delicate coo. It could always be like this, him vaguely gentle in his savagery, if she would be agreeable. Billy rewards that with kisses next and his left hand petting up and down her belly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No matter what happens,” he sighs in her ear, “you’re mine. I’ll never let you go. I’ll never let anyone else have you, Max. You understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s shoulders tense against him for a breath. Another. Billy’s arm tightens around her as a warning. He won’t abide by her fighting him on this. If she wants to be like that, then he’ll tear into her throat and mark her right now. The thought, the inevitable future hounds him constantly. He lies awake sometimes imagining that pressure on his jaw. Her skin bending and then breaking under his teeth, her scream that will surely tingle in his mouth. Just like how one day she’ll be an omega, one day he’ll mark her as his. He needs her to understand this and so growls in her ear when Max’s silence strains the easy atmosphere between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Max.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she whispers, so quiet. “Just go to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not enough, and Billy nips the soft hairs on Max’s nape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say you understand,” he grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing and sagging in his arms, Max huffs, “I understand. I’m going to sleep now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barely three months later, lives turned ass over tea kettle thanks to her betrayal and uprooted to shithole Hawkins, Indiana, Billy’s certainties turn to rot.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I finished this all the way back in July lol. It didn't quite turn out how I'd originally envisioned. I originally wanted Max to try and push Billy towards Steve's direction once they moved to Hawkins. Steve is barely in this, but he's an omega, because it's me lol. And I wanted Max to catch them together and be conflicted about it all. BUT it didn't happen, so you guys get this instead. I have one more completed porn one-shot in the vault, which I'll post next Monday. Anyway, enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve’s bat held high, Max glares at the twinkle in Billy’s eye as he shuffles on his back. Already high. Almost smirking at her like he thinks this is funny. Like she won’t take the shot. Hot, pinching fingers of rage crawl up her neck and make her see red. The anger has been building with every snide word, every harsh hand he puts on her. Things are different from San Diego. Billy is different. Neil picking them up and moving them across the country as part of some deal to keep Billy out of jail has given the alpha an edge. He hones that edge on Max’s skin and slices her to ribbons with it. He’d been an overbearing prick before. Now he’s a bastard chuckling on his back and making eyes at her like they don’t have an audience. Something has to give. Things will be different from now on.</p><p>“Screw you,” he purrs on breathless lips.</p><p>“Say you understand!” She thinks she hates him, but cannot convince herself to marry that idea. His eyes almost flutter when she screams, “Say it!”</p><p>After stealing Billy’s keys, Max doesn’t think about him. Not while jumping into a pit leading straight to Hell. Not while running for her life. Not even while she enlists Steve’s aid in piling Billy’s dead weight into the Camaro and driving them home. The ride is silent. They stink like rotting flesh from the tunnels. Billy snores in the backseats. When Max’s and Steve’s eyes meet as ghostly reflections in the windshield, they say nothing. Steve’s face is still bruised and beaten to shit. The irony of it, that the last person Billy’d beaten like that is what caused them to move here, is of course lost to Steve.</p><p>Max almost wants to laugh. She’s too tired to laugh. She wants a shower and to get out of these clothes. Sweat dampens her under her green jacket. She can’t seem to cool down even with the window cracked. The exhaustion is what allows her to ignore Steve’s bruised existence and help him dump Billy in his bedroom at the front of the house on Cherry Lane. Everything back in its rightful place, Max seeks the bathroom. She doesn’t care if Neil and Mom wake up. She just… needs a minute or two. Away from Billy and away from the creeping things lurking in the corners of her eyes. Even her shower doesn’t do much other than wash the smells of the Upside Down off her. When Max stands dripping wet and naked in front of the sink, she rubs her hands on her face over and over again. The pale expanse of her skin itches and burns. Hopefully it’s nothing. The house is quiet when she emerges from the bathroom, cleansed. Cleansed but restless.</p><p>In a fresh sleep shirt and underwear, Max’s room cannot hope to hold her. Ignoring her busted board, she pads silently to Billy’s room. Maybe some part of her wants to check on him. Who knows what’d been in that syringe, how long Billy will be out. Billy is still snoring away just like in the Camaro when Max dips into his room. So at least he’s still breathing. His nose is bloody from Steve’s fists, Billy’s own knuckles gory from Steve in return. It was almost an exact repeat of Billy beating the shit out of that alpha boy in San Diego. Only Steve isn’t an alpha and wasn’t bothering Max. He was just a casualty of war, of Billy’s bottomless rage. Some of that rage pets over Max as she approaches his sleeping form. From what deep, dark pit her anger has risen, she’s not sure. Maybe it was always here, tunneling under her like the Upside Down.</p><p>It creeps closer to the surface now as she stares at him. He is so close and yet so far away. After Neil had announced what was to become of them, placing all the blame on Billy for them relocating, Billy has been distant. Overly violent towards her and everyone. A junkyard dog chained to a post where once it had roamed freely. It bites the hand that feeds. They haven’t slept in the same bed for months, now. They can barely stand each other. Max thought she would be thankful the first time Billy brushed her off, traded his rough affection with someone else. Omega girls his age, who he’s supposed to be interested in. She will deny it until the end of time that smelling other girls on Billy plucks a cord in her. Why them? Why them when she’s right here?</p><p>“I hate you,” she whispers in the dark, chin trembling. “I hate you so much.”</p><p>Billy says nothing of course. Goes right on snoring softly where he’s splayed out on his back. Max flinches forward with her hands tense like claws. To do… what? The wild desire rages in her to hurt him back like he’s hurt her. She knows in the depths of her mind, the part concerned only with living and dying, that what Billy has done to her is wrong. Wrapping her around his finger with promises. That she’s his, that he’s the only one who cares. Months after him fucking her for the first time and she still hasn’t presented. Max sticks to her guns, denies Billy’s every wicked murmur that she’ll be an omega, his omega, she’ll see. She’s too jagged at the edges to be an omega, jaws too quick to snap. She doesn’t fit the mold.</p><p>Breathing hard for no reason, Max stumbles to the edge of Billy’s mattress. To do what, she still doesn’t know, just reaches for him with hands that tremble. After she’d stabbed him with the syringe, she didn’t think about him. Now he’s all she thinks about. His room stinks of him despite them only living here for a week or so. Musk of a boy who leaves dirty clothes everywhere, doesn’t change his sheets. Alpha. Max’s heart kicks into overdrive, takes control of her. She trembles something awful while wrestling Billy’s boots off his feet. He’s dressed up nicely. A poisoned spear stabs into her guts. He was meant to go somewhere tonight. To fuck one of those cow-eyed omegas she sees him with. Teeth on edge, Max throws Billy’s boots to the floor and climbs on top of him before she knows what she’s doing.</p><p>No sleep shorts, just a loose t-shirt and panties, constrict her legs when she straddles Billy’s hips. His clothes are strangely cold under her, like even Billy’s blood is asleep thanks to the drugs. Jaw aching for something, for flesh and muscle under her teeth, Max’s hands fist the open halves of Billy’s red shirt. Uncertainty curls her snarl into a frown. Uncertain as to what exactly she’s doing. Her hands are not uncertain as they tear Billy’s shirt open. It’s just the bottom three buttons keeping the halves together. They twinkle as they pop off and hit the floor somewhere. Billy will be pissed; this is one of his favorite shirts. Max doesn’t care, just shoves the red cotton away from his skin until he is bare before her eyes.</p><p>The wild pain raging in her heart—why won’t you touch me anymore? Why do you snap at me all the time? You said you loved me—draws Max down, down, down. She bites back furious screams and little whimpers as she tucks herself to his chest. Ear over his sluggish heart, Max presses her trembling mouth to his skin. She fights everything in her that wants her to cry. He doesn’t deserve her tears. He’s a bastard. So why can’t she drag herself away? Everything about him is wrong. Everything between them is wrong. She knows what his mouth tastes like, what his fingers feel like inside her. Knows now how he groans when he pops a knot, deep in his throat like an animal. In some twisted way that makes her grimace against Billy’s chest, Max knows she misses that. She misses the status quo between them and doesn’t know how to get it back.</p><p>Sitting up and breathing so hard, Max grinds between aching teeth, “I hate you.”</p><p>Her hands zip to Billy’s throat like puppet strings control her. Sitting up on her knees splayed around his hips, Max loops her little hands about Billy’s neck. He’s done the same to her to hold her down. To scare her into submitting. Even when Max bears her weight down on his fragile windpipe, she knows she can’t do it. She can’t hurt him back. His breathing strains under her hands, expression flickering in his sleep. Billy’s pulse jumps a bit against her fingers where they dent his neck. She should do it. Strangle him until he’s blue in the face, wicked lips purple. They’re already bruised from fists. What’s a little more trauma tonight?</p><p>About to scream, Max tears her hands away from Billy with a frustrated whine. They slap to her face as her shoulders buck, giving a single sob. It’s all the hurt that has poured into her, flooded the very depths of her. Billy withdrew gradually back in San Diego, entirely here. The moment Neil handed down the decree that they would be moving across the country, Billy turned all his sharp edges on her. He honed the edge of his knife on her skin and withdrew all the strange tenderness, leaving her barren. No longer was his shoving the mean-playful sort. No longer just a show of control and ownership over her. He shoves and pinches and sneers at her to cut deep. To cut her as payback for forcing them to move. Because he blames her, because she’d ratted him out to Neil. Max doesn’t see it that way as she breathes hard into her palms. It’s not her fault. The blood isn’t under her nails.</p><p>Max’s hands slide away from her sweaty face to plop as deadweight on Billy’s chest. Flipping them over, she presses milk to honey and pets him up and down. This is how he likes it, almost purrs when she gives him attention back. Trapping her against his chest with his nose in her hair and his hands all over her, he would whisper ridiculous, sweet nothings to her. That madness she’d once feared and swallowed down like a jagged, little pill she now craves. She wishes Billy would wake up, blink up at her, and then ruin her like he always does. When she’d started to want that, she doesn’t know. Maybe because he’s right. Nobody cares about her. Mom wouldn’t let all this shit happen if she cared. Neil obviously doesn’t. She’s a curiosity to the Party. Fingertips trailing down Billy’s abs to play with the leather of his belt, the button on his jeans, Max wishes so badly that he would wake up and tell her she’s his. Like he used to.</p><p>The itch under her skin is what controls her hands once more. She doesn’t have a name for the sensation, isn’t sure what’s triggered it. Briefly, panicked like a dog on a snare, she worries this is some Upside Down bullshit. There were tufts of something like ash floating in the air down there. Steve with his red bandana around his mouth. It’s entirely possible she breathed some in. That it’s making her skin burn, drenching her in sweat, twisting her vision until all she knows is Billy’s warmth and the sleepy scent of him rising from his skin. She wants more, needs to feel and touch him more. Madness grips her and has her almost bending her nails back while tearing at his belt, zipper, and jeans. He is naked beneath the denim when she wrestles it down his thighs. He is soft in sleep. Nonthreatening. Max wraps a trembling hand around velvety flesh anyway and starts to play.</p><p>Is this what Billy feels when he crawls on top of her and shoves his hands wherever he wants? Because she’s too weak, too afraid, too little to stop him? Billy is none of those things, but he is helpless right now. Max bites back a growl or a whimper—she’s not sure which—as she sinks back down to his chest. One hand slapped to Billy’s sheets and bed balances her weight. The other curls shaking fingers around his shaft and starts to stroke. Gently how he’s taught her but with a firm grip. Max pants hard into his skin and smears her mouth over hardened chest muscles. This is what he does. Rubs his jaw into every inch of her to make him smell like her. So everyone knows who she belongs to. It feels good to do it to him, sparks some sort of pleasure at the base of her spine. A shiver ripples out from that pleasure and coaxes Max to sink her teeth into Billy’s chest. He’s always biting her, threatening to mark her. That must have been all talk. He wants nothing to do with her, now. Trash.</p><p>“I hate you,” she breathes through her pain. Cheek smashed to Billy’s chest and fist stroking harder, faster over limp flesh, Max repeats again and again, “I hate you, I hate you!”</p><p>He won’t get hard. Maybe it’s the drugs. Something. Maybe she’s doing it wrong despite knowing what he likes. Max shoves herself back up, sitting on her shins, and stares down at him with tears blurring her sight. She can’t even arouse him anymore. All manner of squeezing him, swiping her fingers over his head, nothing works. The itch under Max’s skin burns all the hotter. She needs him right now, but it’s all wrong, and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Frantic now, Max wiggles out of her underwear and throws them to the floor. Straddling Billy once more, Max sits on his flaccid cock and grinds on him. This will work. He’s passed out and drooling a little, but this will work. It has to, he always responds to her body, always seeks her out. Max’s hands slapped to his chest for balance curl up, nails digging into him as she rocks on top of him. Despite all this, it hurts. She’s too dry, and that worries her even more.</p><p>Leaning forward, Max slips a hand away from Billy’s skin to shove little fingers between her legs. A hiss and flinch tear through Max as she tries to stuff her fingers inside herself. It’s too tight, too dry. None of this is right. So she lies down on top of Billy again with her hand smashed between them and tries to slow down. She’s not aroused because her mind races too much. That must be it. So she cuddles up to him and thinks about his terrible voice murmuring filth in her ear. She would rather die than admit how much his voice makes her shiver. Max bites her bottom lip as she calls up the agonising pain and rush of him taking her for the first time at the beginning of summer. His knot forcing into her and locking in her, making her take every drop. She reflects on it when the gaping maw of her loneliness threatens to consume her. Billy has left her high and dry, so she clings to the rose-tinted memories of his attention. It’s enough to make her let out a bubble of a sob on top of him. She’s still painfully dry and tight.</p><p>“Billy,” she whines. She presses her teeth to his skin again and shudders as the ache in her jaw subsides. Just a bit. Lips smearing on his skin, she pleads, “What did I do? Why are you acting like this, what… what did I do wrong?”</p><p>She would never breathe a word of this if he were awake. Sweating worse than before, Max’s shiver is part disgust with herself and part cool air petting her clammy skin. The shower has done wonders for the rotting reek of the Upside Down. She at least feels clean of its slimy bowels. Her sweat is clear of foulness, carries a heavier musk she’s smelled on Billy plenty since that summer he was thirteen. It’s a lifetime ago for her, but she remembers him coming home and stinking up his room with this scent immediately. So it coming from her is…</p><p>Shuddering harder and aching like she’s ridden a bike too hard, Max collapses on top of Billy and loses track of time. Being near him is what stops her from panicking. It’s so strange, the itch in her skin and the warmth flooding her neck. The ache in her jaw makes her want to bite. Maybe she would feel safer in her room surrounded by her things. Max cannot hope to peel herself off Billy, though. Not until a chilly dawn breaks the November night and shocks her awake. When she’d fallen asleep, she does not know. The scent of them together chokes Billy’s room. Max sits up, sleep shirt damp to the touch from her sweat. He is, too, burning up where she fell asleep on his chest. The curl always bouncing on his forehead is stuck to skin, sweat-soaked. </p><p>Heart jumping in her throat, realizing that their parents could discover them, Max leaps off Billy. She crashes to the floor, banging her knees, and flees through the house. Each step she takes away from him tightens her throat until she’s choking. The poor girl collapses in front of her own door, sliding down the wood as her head swims. Her bony weight crashing to the floor sends a hollow thump throughout the house. Clear as day to Mom and Neil in the basement bedroom. Trembling hard like last night, Max only manages a pitiful whimper when someone kneels over her. Someone, Mom, pets hair off her forehead and holds her face while shushing her. When Max’s trembling ratchets up, thin arms lift her with a tremor. Billy’s name stings Max’s bitten lips as Mom carries her to the car, Neil courteous enough to open the back door of the Buick to let them in. Max is full of the comforting scent of home while she clings to her mother’s blouse and cries. No words, just animal noises of fear and anguish.</p><p>What’s happening?</p><p>The Party, even with Will in tow, showing up to her house a few days later is almost sweet. Even her greatest opposition, Mike, lingers behind Dustin and Lucas. They’ve brought the three days of assignments she’d missed. As Dustin and Lucas argue over the order they should explain the assignments—due date versus complexity—Will creeps closer under the watchful eye of Mom standing in the living room just behind. Billy’s bedroom door hangs open. The Camaro isn’t here. His door had been shut when she got home. So Max hasn’t seen him once since stumbling away from his room. Three days she spent clawing to get out, lunging at doctors and nurses just trying to help. Hopefully none of them heard her sobbing Billy’s name at the height of her madness. She’ll fall into a cycle, they said. It won’t be every month. Her rut.</p><p>Will flashes her a soft smile, asks, “The reason you missed school, well we heard you were sick but…” His thin shoulders hunch like he’s an origami figure. Lower, he whispers, “Do you feel okay? Like… it’s not from the Upside Down, is it? Mike told me you were in the tunnels, so…”</p><p>Max tries for a smile. It ticks so plastic and fake at the corners of her lips. She cannot manage it, though. In the corner of her eye, she keeps glancing into Billy’s bedroom. Usually he leaves clothes lying on the floor. She can’t find the red shirt he’d worn that night. If she couldn’t have him at the hospital while going mad, even his shirt would have helped. Something of his to comfort her. Max wonders where Billy is, if he heard the news. She won’t be his sweet, little omega. Just like she always warned him.</p><p>“No,” Max forces out. It hurts to speak. She isn’t over growling and wailing yet. “No, I presented that night when I came back.”</p><p>At least she’s not the last in their little… rat pack. Will hasn’t, the smallest of them. Dustin hasn’t either. She glances to Mike, a beta who looks huffier and huffier the longer his companions argue. And finally Lucas, an alpha ever the antithesis to Billy. Even in the middle of a heated, voice-cracking argument, Lucas does a double take when he tunes into Max staring at him. He knows what she is, now. He meets her eyes so much easier than just a few days ago. Holding hands and huddling close through the terror of it all. They’re on even ground, now. Mindless to Dustin talking a mile-a-minute, Lucas offers her a sympathetic smile. Welcome to the club. Glad you’re okay.</p><p>If only she could get that much from Billy. An olive branch, throw a dog a bone. But no, Billy makes himself as scarce as he can. If not for the whole presenting business, Max might find it a relief. Billy’s brutality hitting its peak after moving here had been about to drive her mad. First he ignores her, denies her crawling into his bed when they’ve done it for years. And then he treats her like she’s intruding into his territory? Snapping and growling at her with barely a glance? Max meant what she said that night in the Byers house. For him to leave her and the Party alone. Her friends. He took it to heart, she thinks, and she can’t deny the pang of regret that eats away at her. It tastes metallic.</p><p>It’s Christmas before she knows it. The Snow Ball. They’re still not exactly on speaking terms. Rides to school are tense silence or blaring music. It carries an edge, now. Hatred and disgust and anger choking the interior of the Camaro. Max gasps for breath every time she rolls out of the car, staring at Billy’s tense back as he stomps towards the high school. The life has gone out of him, too. When his flavor of the week walks up to him and tries to give him affection, even the soft-hipped omega girls, he shoves their hands off him and angles a growl their way. Back off. Maybe she should draw some twisted joy from watching the omegas scoff at him and blow him off, yesterday’s news. It just leaves her feeling hollow in the morning wind that grows more brisk with each passing day.</p><p>Mom is putting the final touches on Max’s hair. </p><p>“It’s gonna be worth it,” Susan says with a pause, smile flashing on and off her face like Christmas light. “Promise.”</p><p>The living room beyond Max’s door is dim thanks to all the lamps turned off, leaving the Christmas tree to twinkle in all its glory. So it’s only thanks to Max’s frayed nerves courtesy of the Upside Down that she catches Billy skulking by. He’s in charge of taking her to and picking her up from the dance. Despite Max begging Mom to take her instead. It’s going to be a date night between Mom and Neil since Neil has saddled Billy with the burden of chaperone. Nevermind how frosty and prickly things are between them. Even now with Billy peeking in on them, so out of place in this moment, Max is torn between slamming the door in his face and calling out for him. When he does nothing but stand there like an idiot, full of hesitation and something unspoken, the scale tips in Max. He doesn’t get to intrude on this moment between mother and daughter. He doesn’t deserve her time. If Mom catches Max glaring at Billy through her open doorway, she says nothing. Something like a sigh blows out of Billy and then he’s gone with the soft thunk of his boots in the hardwood floor. It’s going to be a tense drive to the dance.</p><p>The dance is almost enough to make Max forget Billy. Lucas’ chivalry is charming as they slow dance, her hands clasped as his nape. A few other kids stare at them for various reasons. Max chalks it up to two alphas dancing together, making eyes at each other. Lucas’ little twitch of a grin makes her shy in a way she’s never felt before. It encourages Max’s own shyness, and they make a game of meeting each other’s eyes before breaking away. It’s not a struggle for power. They’re just soft and new around each other. Nevermind that Max is not soft or new. Lucas doesn’t need to know. She could never begin to explain the madness in her house. How when she darts forward to kiss Lucas first that his lips are awkward in their stiffness and yet Max knows how to angle their heads. Their noses don’t bash together, their teeth don’t click behind their lips. He is stunned in his surprise. It’s a chaste thing, and as Max rests her head on Lucas’ shoulder, she wishes things could be this simple.</p><p>It’s a fairytale, though. It all comes rushing back the moment the dance ends and she wanders into the cold, searching instinctively for the Camaro. The wisp of smoke and the cherry of Billy’s cigarette gives him away. Leaning on the hood to smoke, his eyes are on her the moment the crowd thins. He finds her as instinctively as she finds him, jerks his head to tell her to get in. They hadn’t traded a word the short drive here. But now cloaked in the hormonal scents of other teens, of Lucas’ hands on her, Max bets Billy will run his mouth. He hates Lucas for whatever reason—Lucas pursuing her in a bid to gain her friendship, Lucas’ race, Lucas’ status, maybe all three, who knows. Billy climbs into the driver’s seat after Max has already buckled up and closed the door. She begins a countdown to when Billy picks up another alpha on her. The last time had him beating the shit out of a kid he didn’t know. What will he do this time?</p><p>The turn that would lead them to Cherry Lane approaches and passes as Billy drives. Max twists around in the seat to watch the turn fade into the chilly night, darkness swallowing it without street lights. Mom and Neil may be home already, although their dates tend to go long. Billy used to take advantage of that, would barge into Max’s room or drag her to his to play his dominance games. Scenting her and touching her, snapping at her to behave like a good omega. No more of that. No more of that since Neil had announced their move. No more even gruff affection since that night in early November a little more than a month ago. Like the night she presented, Billy is so close and yet so far as he drives tight lipped, hands flexing around the steering wheel. Anger building. It tastes like orange peel in the air.</p><p>Sighing, Max tries, “Where are we—”</p><p>“Shut up,” he snaps right back.</p><p>It’s almost a command. It won’t work on her anymore, and he knows it. Billy gnashes his teeth in the near darkness of the road and slaps the radio on to deter her from speaking again. Even if Max opens her mouth, he’ll ignore her. </p><p>Not this time, though. Her own snarl twitching on her upper lip, Max’s little hand flashes to the dash and kills the radio just as quickly as it’d roared to life.</p><p>“You missed the turn, so where the hell are we going?”</p><p>It’s dark, cold, and they’re in the middle of nowhere. So whatever Billy is planning, Max would rather know about it. He wouldn’t… do anything to her. Right? She can trust him that much. If not for the sake of his lost affection for her then at least with the knowledge that Neil would bury him if anything happened to her. So it comes as a relief, despite it giving her shame, when Billy jerks the car onto the shoulder and comes to a sliding stop in gravel.</p><p>Squeezing the steering wheel until his arms shake, Billy fights with himself. Max can do nothing in the face of this terror except stare at him where she’s twisted to face him. To act that night in the Byers house had been born out of her desperate to not see history repeat itself. Steve didn’t deserve to be beaten half to death. There is no life to protect, no madness to halt here. It’s just the two of them crammed in Billy’s car with words unspoken between them. Max forces her tight jaw to loosen, prepares words, but Billy beats her to it. </p><p>His right hand strikes out in the dark, tangling in her hair. It’s only by the lights of the dash she sees it at all. The white puffs of her breaths choke and then stream out as steam, her voice caught in it as Billy wrestles her closer. Billy’s other hand slaps at the buckle of the seatbelt to free her. Then it’s just one hand in her hair and the other on her throat as Billy pulls Max over the center console. Tiny feet kick the window, the door, anything as she struggles. Fighting him for the first time in years. They rock the Camaro until the shocks whine in the cold, until even Billy’s voice leaks through him panting in her face, fighting for control. Max’s hands are useless things slapped and clawed into his chest. Useless then, useless now as Billy hauls her to his shoulder and forces her head down. It’s almost a mockery of the tenderness she’d shown Lucas at the dance. Max’s heart skips a beat now as it did them as Billy’s arms lock around her. No escape.</p><p>“Stop.”</p><p>Billy’s voice comes out barely above a whisper. A plea for her compliance. She’s never heard him so raw and desperate before.</p><p>“Billy—”</p><p>The hand at the back of Max’s head tightens until all five blunt fingertips dig into her. Billy clutches Max all the tighter to him as he shakes her a little.</p><p>“Just stop, just-just shut up, Max, just shut the fuck up.”</p><p>Max’s hands bunch in the front of Billy’s short-sleeved button-up. It’s the same baby blue one he’d worn to drive her to the Snow Ball. For the first time in months, Max’s nose presses to the crook of Billy’s throat. Through the bite of his cologne lurks something she knows so well, calms her struggle enough for Billy to gain the upper hand. Something in Max’s stomach twists, something about losing control. That’s never happened before, but she has no outlet. She barely kicks again when Billy’s hands grab her waist to position her how he wants her. Billy huffs and grunts in wavy, red hair as he piles Max into his lap. No help from her, just clinging to his shirt and fighting between a whimper and a growl. </p><p>She hasn’t gotten it worked out when Billy’s arms yank her forward on her knees. Their chests collide, knocking the breath out of them. Billy is the first to regain his, buries his face in her hair and holds her tightly. His hands will bruise her through the dumb dress she has on. It bunches around her thighs anyway, Billy’s body forcing them wide open. It’s the same when she’d huddled on top of him the night she presented. She almost wants to bark a laugh looking back on it. Whispering her hatred for him and yet cuddling right up to him. Because he felt safer than facing whatever was happening to her alone. Him all over her like this is a flash flood after that long drought. Max thinks she could be sick, already starting to panic, when Billy breathes in her ear.</p><p>“Stop,” he whispers. “Just lemme hold you for a while. Just lemme hold you, baby.”</p><p>One arm slung low on her waist cups her opposite hip. Billy’s fingers are crude as always despite his gentle hold on her. Max knows the imprints of his fingers will throb long after they’ve separated. His other hand lingers on the back of her head, cupping all that warm, fiery hair. He keeps her head down like that, trapping Max in the thick scent of him. The spell it has over her remains. Just not with an absolute sway. She could give him a decent struggle if she wanted to. Holding off for now, Max sits stone still in Billy’s lap like she used to when she was little. When she didn’t want to play his games. Much like then, though, Billy isn’t content with Max’s stoicism. </p><p>Nosing her clothes out of the way, Billy mouths rough kisses to Max’s throat. She startles in his lap just how he likes. She knows because his hum vibrates through their skin. Billy’s arm around her back also tightens, cementing them together. She’s the perfect weight in his lap for him to grind into her ass. When Max yelps and jumps again, Billy’s strength is ready for her. Teeth sink into her neck to hold her down while his fingers dig into her like iron. Another groan tickles her, sparks a shiver to race up and down her spine. When Billy relaxes his bite and nuzzles his way to Max’s ear, she sags against his chest.</p><p>“It’s funny how you still do that,” he murmurs against the soft lobe of her ear. He pets her when she shivers harder. “I thought you’d fight me.”</p><p>Max turns her face out of Billy’s neck enough to suck in clearer air. The interior of the Camaro is small enough for their combined scents to thicken the air. If Billy keeps grinding on her ass, they’ll choke on it. Max squirms to get away, but that only helps Billy find friction. He sucks down a loud breath in her ear, sinks both hands to her waist, and then drags her harder into his lap.</p><p>“Why are you doing this?” she asks, so small. Even through Billy’s jeans she feels the firm bulge of him. So he’s not faking it. Not that he would for her sake. Max sits up as much as she can in Billy’s grip and cries, “I know you hate me now, so just stop!”</p><p>Billy’s hands lift off Max’s waist for a breath. They slip under her dress, spilling cool air on her thighs, and flatten on her lower back. Skin to skin for the first time in so long, too long, they share a tiny noise together. One of mindless, basic pleasure. This feels good; this feels right. It doesn’t make any sense to Max, not if she believes her pathetic whine just now. Billy just holds her tightly to him, petting up and down her back, sometimes shifting to rub himself on her. When his jaw brushes her hair back and forth, too, she knows what he’s doing.</p><p>“Don’t,” she whispers. Her breath fogs up the window a little. She closes her eyes to their ghostly reflections, nuzzles Billy’s shoulder with her forehead, and pleads, “Don’t do this if you don’t mean it.”</p><p>Billy pauses his snuffling in her hair and neck. When he sits back, his lips hit freckled skin. Max’s belly flips when those thin lips kiss a wandering path closer to hers. She sits up lightning fast with her hands flat on Billy’s chest. The cotton of his button-up wrinkles as she struggles with him. It takes Billy flicking a hand out from under Max’s dress and cupping the back of her head to regain control. Billy pulls her right back to his chest, holding her so close and tight that his breaths puff on her lips. They shake together with Billy’s fingers tight in Max’s hair and hers going pale at the knuckles on his chest. She is the strongest she’s ever been. Still weak to him when he purrs her name and closes the distance between them.</p><p>She doesn’t fight him. Max leans her weight into his chest and shares another soft noise with him. One kiss will not satisfy him, never has, and Max bobs with him. It’s as easy as breathing despite how long she’s gone without. She thinks they’re pressing Billy’s head hard into the seat, but she doesn’t care enough to let up. Max hates him but can’t stop, is afraid he’ll never do it again if she stops. They must when Billy’s hand in her hair urges her back. Max fights him for maybe a second. Before she would have just glared at him and allowed it. Now she struggles for a breath without thinking about it, lowers her fire to a glare when her scalp stings. The blank, far-away look on Billy’s face makes her drop that act, too. It’s the same look he’d given her when he finally came home and smelled her for the first time after she presented. When he knew what she’d become and that all his plans were for nothing.</p><p>“Why did you stop?” she pleads. “Why did you stop sleeping with me at night and… everything else? I didn’t… ask for this to happen.” Max’s face screws up as she grits her teeth to not let her chin wobble. “It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault, and it’s not fair! You don’t get to hate me and then kiss me like you don’t!”</p><p>Billy’s hand on the back of her head urges her close again. That same far-away look lingers on his face even when he nuzzles their cheeks together.</p><p>“Something happened,” Billy muses against her cheek. “Something in this town changed you. You weren’t supposed to turn out like this, Max, you were… You know that, right?” He holds her tighter, an edge creeping into his voice. “You know you were supposed to be an omega. It’s this fucking town, something in the water, something…”</p><p>Maybe he’s right, something whispers to her. Maybe it had happened because of being in the tunnels. Around all that stuff floating in the air. She felt strange once she was alone with Billy back at the house. So maybe he’s right. Max’s pride won’t accept that, points out all the flaws in his thinking. She’s not nurturing like an omega. Not delicate or soft or coy. She’s the sparks flying off the flint of a Zippo. She’s a fire truck siren droning on in the distance and never stopping. Whenever Billy would murmur in his mad way that she would be an omega, his omega, she’d see, she always objected. Even when she kept silent, she objected. That path was never for her. He just couldn’t see it. </p><p>So Max rejects that notion, shaking her head despite the rasp of their cheeks together.</p><p>“Hawkins has nothing to do with it, Billy. And even if it did, there’s nothing you can do about it. I’m never gonna be what you wanted.”</p><p>“Don’t you think I know that?” He shakes her a little. Bowing down, Billy hikes Max higher against his chest so he can tuck his face to the crook of her neck. His favorite spot. “I knew as soon as Susan brought you home what happened. You stank like an alpha, but it was still you.” His fingers dig into her scalp and lower back as a tremor runs through him. “I couldn’t stand to be near you. I just wanted to tear you apart, Max.”</p><p>So she’s right. He hates her now because she’s an alpha. Max shoves at his shoulders, tangles a dainty hand in his curls to pull him off her. She goes so far as to growl, but nothing works. Because she doesn’t mean it. For the first time since they’d moved, she is close to Billy again. He wants her again. It’s just as wrong now as the first, fifth, hundredth time. But he is the only person who cares about her. Even if his care is negligent and cruel. The cruelest love in the world, but it’s something. So Max slips her arms around his neck with a tremor and holds on. </p><p>“So why did you kiss me if you hate me? You stopped doing that when we moved, and now you won’t even talk to me. So which is it? Do you hate me or not?”</p><p>Billy’s breaths are even against Max’s pulse when he says, “It’s complicated.”</p><p>That’s not an answer, and Max tugs on dirty blond curls in retaliation.</p><p>“You can’t have it both ways, Billy. You can’t pretend like I didn’t exist for a month and then do this, okay?” She clings tighter to him, says so small, “It messed me up when you did that. You say you’re the only one who cares about me and then you do that?”</p><p>He sighs hard against her and pulls them apart. Max turns her head to deny his intense stare, but callused fingers grab her chin to force her. Billy is just as intimidating and focused as she knew he’d be. The impact is less, now. She feels along the smooth edge between them that had once been frayed. Frayed because Billy tore her up and then tacked her worth onto him. He’s the only one who cares. He’s the only one who thinks she’s worth something. He did this to her, but she cannot find a way to claw that worth and control back. Even now, considering her with a frown on his lips, a wrinkle between his eyebrows, Billy still holds her captive.</p><p>“If you hate me then just… then just let me go,” Max forces out, eyes falling shut. “I hate feeling this way, like I did something wrong. I won’t try to sleep in your bed anymore, I’ll avoid you at home, just—”</p><p>Billy’s lips on hers muffle whatever nonsense Max had been about to whimper. She’s about to shake apart at the seams in his lap, and him kissing her so sweetly again just makes it worse. Max’s hands spring back to life on Billy’s chest, pushing on him for real and trying to give her leverage to separate them. Billy just growls against her and yanks Max into his chest again. When that doesn’t scare the rebellion out of her, Billy ends their kisses with a hot glare. His fingers at her chin are just on the side of cruel as they force her to look at him. </p><p>“That’s not what I want, so stop saying that.” He grimaces, darts forward as if to kiss her again, but Max bares her teeth right back. She’ll bite. “I don’t hate you, you little shit. It’s just… It’s different, now.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>Sighing, Billy relaxes into the driver’s seat and thumps his head against the leather. Giving up his grip on Max’s chin, Billy’s hands once more claim her waist. On top of her dress this time, although the phantom caress of his hands on milky skin lingers. It’s been too long since they last touched. His hands are almost gentle where they cup her, thumbs flicking lazily like the tail of an annoyed cat. Another sigh blows out of Billy, and then he lifts his head to meet her eyes again. He catches her watching him like he always does. Max doesn’t bother to hide it. She’s been waiting for this thing between them to come to a head since he presented. Some part of Max always knew she wouldn’t turn out how he wanted. She used to find solace in that. Now, despite how sick it makes her, she almost wishes she were an omega. Then things wouldn’t be ‘complicated.’</p><p>“It’s not rocket science, Max. It just means things are different between us, now. We’re both alphas. This isn’t a walk in the park for me, either.” He has the nerve to glare at her like she’d decided any of this. Like either of them had a choice, which they never do. “It sucked having to hide this shit from Dad and Susan when we moved. You stopped smelling like me, and it was driving me crazy. And then you went and turned out an alpha—”</p><p>“That’s not my fault!” Max shrieks. She’s in his face, can see herself in the wet reflection of his eyes. “I didn’t choose this! I wanted to be happy when you started ignoring me, but I wasn’t! I hate this! I hate missing you, Billy!”</p><p>When Billy says nothing to that, just stares at her with his eyes wide and lips parted, a growl of frustration bubbles in Max’s throat. She fists both hands and thumps them on Billy’s chest. Her anger drums hollow under his breastbone. At least he has the decency to wince. Max’s hands tingle from the impact, but she ignores it. She lifts them up to hit him again, needing an outlet for all this loneliness and misery. He did this to her, made her reliant on his cruel affection, hanging on his every touch. She’s like this now and doesn’t know how to stop. Max just wants him to hurt like she does. Billy’s hands wrapping around her wrists, just holding her, make her freeze in his lap.</p><p>Sniffling gross and wet, Max whimpers, “I presented after I stuck you with that needle. Steve helped me bring you home, and when we got here, I felt sick. Like my skin was on fire and-and I needed to be near you, but you were passed out, and I was alone. I didn’t wanna be alone, Billy.”</p><p>He would know better than anyone what that’d been like. Taken away just like her when he presented. All the adults on the baseball diamond tackling him when he made a break for it. For the fence that separated the stands from the diamond. For her beyond that fence. Max knew, sat rooted to that spot between Neil and Mom, that the crazed look in Billy’s eyes was for her. She understands that madness better now, hates that she wishes he would just hold her and scent her like he used to. Does she even want that anymore? She’s an alpha; she shouldn’t want that. But the moment Billy tugs her close again, pets up and down her back, all the fight drains out of her. Tears bruising her pride, Max bottles her sniffles as best she can as she huddles against Billy’s chest. When he lifts a hand to pet her hair too, she can’t help the little noise she lets out.</p><p>“Jeez you’re an ugly crier,” he sighs.</p><p>“Says the asshole who made me cry,” she fires right back, voice thick and trembling. She wipes tears and snot on his blue shirt. Serves him right. “You’re not even sorry.”</p><p>Billy’s hands pause on her.</p><p>Voice gravelly as it dips low, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear, he admits, “I didn’t know you missed me.” His hands tighten on her. “I didn’t think I could touch you anymore, so I stopped. Kinda thought you’d be happy about it.”</p><p>“Well I’m not. I’m not happy.”</p><p>Billy hears the warble in her voice clearly, grunts, “I’m touching you now, aren’t I? So enough with the waterworks.”</p><p>Max pays that no mind, shivers, and tucks her face to his neck. Even when he’s trying to be nice, he’s an asshole. Green-blue eyes roll through another tremor. They’ve been sitting here for too long. The fight going out of her leaves Max hollow, welcoming the December night. It worms frosty fingers through the Camaro to poke at Max’s sides.</p><p>Teeth not quite chattering, Max mumbles, “Screw you,” and wiggles in Billy’s lap to get warm.</p><p>She doesn’t tune into Billy’s deep hum and his hand sliding to her waist again until his hips shift under her. Oh that’s right. He’d dragged her into his lap to kiss her and rub himself on her. Emotional whiplash made her forget how they even ended up like this—clinging to each other behind the steering wheel. Not just because it’s cold outside but also because Billy is an idiot and won’t wear winter clothes. Max’s jacket on top of her dress traps some of their body heat. But not enough. Like earlier when Billy first dragged her into his lap, Max matches the shift of his body under her. She doesn’t exactly mean to grind back on him. The firmness under her bottom and their scents warming up again are too good to ignore. She hasn’t felt this good since the last time Billy touched her in San Diego. It’s been months of drought. And she has missed him all the more now that she’s lost all understanding of her body.</p><p>Sitting up and panting with him, Max asks softly, “So you don’t hate me?”</p><p>A molten eye cracks open, his desire for her resurrected. Maybe never passed.</p><p>“No,” he murmurs. “I don’t hate you.”</p><p>“Are you gonna keep avoiding me at home?”</p><p>A hard pop of his hips into her bottom coaxes a yelp out of Max, sends her scrambling for Billy’s shoulders. Billy’s little smirk must serve as his answer, recognizing that sound coming out of her. Excitement. Both of his hands cupping her waist feel right, feel so good after so long. Shoulders climbing up to her ears, Max shuffles on her knees to grind harder into him. This was just starting to feel good before they’d moved. Her body has changed since she presented. A nurse at the hospital explained some things to her, handed her pamphlets for more intimate details she couldn’t answer. What would an omega nurse like her know about female alpha anatomy? The nurse even gave her a strange look when she left. Like something was wrong with Max. Max is sure there’s something wrong with her. Because this feels good, but she wants more, needs more friction. It scares her, so she slows in Billy’s lap and shakes in his hands, nails digging into him.</p><p>“Why’d you stop?” he grumbles. Billy tries to keep moving her without cooperation, but Max just curls up tighter. “What?”</p><p>“This felt good the last time you did it in San Diego.” Max presses the heat glowing in her cheek to Billy’s neck. She can’t let him see her like this. “I want it to feel like that. Why did it change?”</p><p>“It’s gonna take more to get you off, now. You’re an alpha, that’s how it works. You feel around down there yet? Notice anything?”</p><p>She has, duh it’s her body, but that doesn’t mean she wants to tell him.</p><p>“Yea…”</p><p>“Your clit’s huge now, isn’t it?”</p><p>Max’s ears join in on the blush raging under her skin. When she grimaces and presses harder against Billy’s throat, he laughs at her. </p><p>“Prude,” he murmurs under his breath, too amused for his own good. “Yea, it’s more like a tiny dick now. Whatever you wanna call it, that’s what you get to fuck with now. Cuz you noticed something else, too, didn’t you?”</p><p>Even now she’s not wet. Rubbing on him and fogging her head with his scent, she knows she’s painfully dry.</p><p>“I don’t-it doesn’t… It’s really dry.”</p><p>“Ye-p. Your nerves dull a little so you last longer, and everything dries up.” A sigh. “Welcome to the club, shitbird.”</p><p>Billy’s disappointment kills the air in here. Even Billy’s hips under Max stop grinding into her. A string tugs Max’s heart through her back, coaxing her up from her hiding place. Billy can only ever hide his emotions behind a blank, far-away expression. Otherwise he’s an open book. So she knows his disappointment is real. He’d expected her to be the exact opposite of this. Had plans dependent upon that, obviously. Max’s flush lingers in her cheeks as she shuffles on him. Because his hunger for her is not so distant in the past that she forgets him climbing all over her, mouth everywhere, hands insistent. Fucking her that first time in early summer… Yes, he grew distant in their daily lives after that. Under Neil’s microscope while he dealt with Billy’s violent fuck up. But their nights were still busy. Billy taught her so many things at a frantic pace. Because he knew time was running out. The leash tightened around his throat, dragged him all the way here behind the moving truck. And now she’s this. He thinks he’ll never have her again.</p><p>“Billy?”</p><p>A blink and he’s back with her.</p><p>“What, brat?”</p><p>She frowns at him but doesn’t let Billy get a rise out of her. Instead, Max relaxes in his hands, softens her grip at his shoulders. Their eyes meet through the meager light from the Camaro’s dash as Max rolls her body into Billy’s. His expression going wide with surprise encourages her, so she does it again. Harder.</p><p>“So you say you don’t hate me, and you’re gonna stop ignoring me at home. Are you gonna…” Tiny hips roll again, grinding as hard as this position allows. Billy’s hands on her waist don’t try to stop her. “Are you gonna touch me again?”</p><p>The look she gives from under a lock of hair that falls in her face is what frees Billy from his stupor. Now his hands tighten at her waist, encouraging her to pick up a rhythm again. He remains motionless under her, but Max knows he’s enjoying this. He always did like using her.</p><p>“Oh you missed me like this too, huh?”</p><p>“Don’t be gross.”</p><p>Billy curls forward, into Max’s space, and murmurs, “Says the girl wondering if I’m gonna fuck her again.”</p><p>“Are you gonna do it or not?!”</p><p>Snorting, Billy asks, “What, you mean right now?”</p><p>Rolling her eyes hard enough to give herself a headache, Max fists the collar of Billy’s shirt and shoves him into the backrest, her mouth following him. He makes no objection to the slide of their lips, only grunts in surprise when Max licks into his mouth first. She’s never done that before. It’s like a fist tightens in her guts and sends her lurching forward, forcing her into the spotlight and demanding boldness. He entertains her for a few flicks of her tongue before wrestling Max back with a hand around her neck. Billy startles a tiny bit, just a rapid blink of his eyes, when Max growls at him instead of cowering. Like she used to.</p><p>“Gonna have to get used to that,” he grumbles to himself. Louder, he says, “Hope you’re ready for me to throw you around a lot more. You’re gonna fight back most of the time, but I know you don’t mean it.”</p><p>Heat rises once more in Max’s cheeks. Her skin pricks a little under Billy’s fingers in her throat.</p><p>“What if I want you to stop?”</p><p>“I’ll know,” he murmurs back with his eyes narrowing. Don’t challenge me. “I’ve been playing this game with you for a long time, Max. I know what you like.”</p><p>Billy’s palm blankets the nape of her neck with ease. So when he squeezes, his fingers dig in, choking her just a little. Max’s nails bite into his shoulders in return. She thinks better of it when Billy’s expression turns dangerous. So Max unhooks kitten claws from him and smoothes her hands up and down his chest instead. That does the trick, something she’d learned about him ages ago. How he likes to be touched back, likes to have his hard work admired. Her touch encourages him to almost purr under her. She can do that too, now, and wants to right as Billy tugs her close again for more kisses.</p><p>This is what she’s missed: the edge in Billy that is always ravenous, that just takes, takes, takes. He has Max moaning and squealing a little in his lap in no time. No coy games here. Billy’s hands at her waist aren’t shy like Lucas tonight at the Snow Ball. Chaste, too nervous to realize what he was doing. Billy knows, bunches up Max’s dress this time to get at her skin. The band of her flimsy bra, more to stop her nipples from peeking through her shirts, pinches when Billy shoves his fingers under it. They may pop the hooks in the back when Billy mirrors her hands squeezing at his chest, stretching her bra to feel her up. Crude fingers paw at her as a deep hum from Billy tickles her lips. He still has her ensnared when he pinches rosy nipples at the same time. </p><p>They separate for a breath, long enough for Max to moan, “Billy,” before he’s on her again.</p><p>When Billy surges forward, he sends her back digging into the steering wheel. They almost honk the horn with Max’s bony ass. Billy grumbles in her neck as he tugs a hand out of her clothes, throws it under his seat. Pawing for something. Max clings to his shoulders with a frown as uncertainty sloshes in her stomach. Billy must find what he’s looking for. Because the whole seat rolls back, and then the backrest sweeps low. Humming so satisfied deep in his throat, Billy lies back with Max perched on his thighs. From the deeper shadows of the car, he grins up at her as he stuffs his left hand back under her dress, plucking at her nipples all over again.</p><p>Of course he would lie back like this so he can enjoy the show in relaxed repose. She wants more, though. Billy’s left hand isn’t under her dress for long. Max pays no mind to flashing him as she drags her dress up to tug at his wrist. He huffs, pinches her hard enough to hurt, and then finally lets Max draw him away. Max doesn’t take him far, just flips his paw of a hand over and presses his palm flush between her legs. Only white cotton separates them. She aches in a familiar way, only it’s more distant. His fingers would probably be too much for her, now. So they only have this left as Max grinds herself into the heel of Billy’s palm.</p><p>“Oh, okay,” he drawls, voice butter and honey. “You wanna play that game with your big brother?”</p><p>“Oh my god,” Max hisses. “Don’t start. Either touch me or take us home.” She huffs, though, turns her head away. “You can’t fuck me, though. It’ll hurt.”</p><p>“Not gonna do that.” Billy snarls a little while yanking his hand free. Clingy. His fingers grab at her chin soon enough. Three, rough pads pet over her lips.</p><p>“Open.”</p><p>Max scowls at him, thinks about snapping her teeth instead, but ultimate relents. Billy isn’t nice about it, shoves past her big front teeth despite the bone scraping him. Two fingers at first wiggle on her tongue, thrusting ever so slightly. Max could lean back and out of range if she wanted to. Instead, she holds Billy’s wrist steady and sucks on his fingers. Beyond Max’s eyelids, he groans and lets her keep control. For now. His right hand will not be ignored, takes to rolling a tender nipple just to feel Max shake in his lap. He’s the one who decides when his fingers are wet enough, coaxes them from between Max’s lips with one last brush to her bottom lip. Both of Billy’s hands flee south. Max startles on her knees when dry fingers hook in her panties, pull them to the side, and then wet fingertips brush over her clit.</p><p>“Billy!”</p><p>But he doesn’t linger. Spit isn’t great for reducing the friction between their skin. So Billy’s fingers jam into her mouth on the heels of her whining his name. While Max whimpers with her mouth full, Billy shoots her a hooded stare. His grin unfurls like a frond on his sleazy face. Icy fingers playing piano games with her spine, Max glares at him and nips his fingers when he retreats again. Even that is too much fight for Billy to tolerate. It’s a playful nip of teeth, no harm meant. Billy still strikes out with his right hand to tangle with her hair and yank Max forward on her knees. She has to catch herself with her hands on the leather under Billy’s head. Closer and closer he pulls her until the seat cushion squeaks under her knees.</p><p>Breath puffing warm and humid in her ear, Billy growls, “Take your panties off before I rip them off.”</p><p>Max almost knees Billy in the ribs as she scrambles to comply. Her pride pools bright pink under her freckles. Because it shames her a little to snap to attention and jump straight into the deep end. Still, Max’s hands fly under her dress to tug the cotton down and away. One ankle and then the other. She barely flicks them in the direction of the passenger seat before Billy’s hands are on her again. His fingers grope her mound already wet from the first graze and rub her in tight circles. Max jolts hard in his hands and teeters forward on her knees. Trembling above him, Max moans level with his jaw. In her peripheral vision, she sees his grin.</p><p>“Feels good, doesn’t it?”</p><p>More so when Max’s hips roll into the tight circles of his fingers. She nods anyway, her own fingers seeking the front of Billy’s shirt again. If they keep up like this, maybe she could get there. That must not be in Billy’s immediate plans. Because as his spit dries, he pulls away again. Max lets out a frustrated whine and tries to tug at his wrist to keep his fingers right where they are. Billy pops the backs of her hands like she’s sneaking food. So she watches him through a scowl as Billy reaches between them. The twinkle of his belt excites her more than the promise in Billy’s grin. With a shift of clothing out of the way, she catches the flash of intimate skin. Not before she watches Billy slick his fingers with his tongue, more so then when he’d touched her, and gropes himself in the dark. </p><p>“C’mere.”</p><p>Max pays no mind to the grip of wet fingers on one side of her waist. Billy yanks her forward on her knees to get her where he wants her. Huffing, Max bucks in his hands, refusing to go quietly. The moment he yanks her high enough, knees about his hips, Max understands what he means to do. Her thighs already shake when he encourages her to grind down. The underside of his shaft drags a little even with saliva. It’s delicious friction to her clit that’s already buzzing from brief caresses. Max doesn’t know if this will be any better than her pathetic, lonely attempts in the middle of the night. Billy under her and breathing with her makes it better. He’s firmer than one of her pillows anyway.</p><p>Palms going sweaty at the lines in them, Max’s hands seek purchase on Billy’s chest. She wrestles the halves of his shirt open, plucking all the buttons instead of ripping them like last time. Billy doesn’t know about that. How after she and Steve had shoved his deadweight onto his bed, after her shower, after trying to stay away that she climbed on top of him and tried to fuck him. Blush hot in the dark, Max’s private shame, she hopes Billy never finds out how she cried while seeking comfort and relief from her pain. He would never let her hear the end of it, teasing merciless.</p><p>It would have worked out like this, she bets, grunting as she rolls her hips harder. She can’t grind on him how she used to. She needs more, hovers above him like he does with her and rocks her hips like he’s done so many times. If Billy notices the difference, Max’s hips popping like she’s the one doing the fucking, he makes no mention of it. Just presses his head harder to the seat and groans to the ceiling. The inside of the Camaro is full of them, choking in earthy musk. They’ve never smelled like this together. So Max can’t help but tuck her face to Billy’s neck and rut harder, faster against his cock.</p><p>“Billy,” she whimpers. The spit between them is starting to dry. Their skin catches, tears a wince out of both. Desperate for this to work, Max pleads, “I don’t wanna stop, I-I wanna do this like we used to, please don’t stop, please…”</p><p>If she can’t make this good for him, can’t make him come, then he won’t want her anymore. Hands at her waist twitch before both sink into her hair. It’s a little tangled from Billy manhandling her, from her writhing on top of him. She doesn’t mind a few more knots as Billy tugs her higher and bites kisses to her trembling lips. She’s not crying! She’s not going to cry! It’s just frustrating, her body betraying her like this. Billy kisses her worries away, doesn’t let her go until she’s breathless and calm. When Max catches her breath and shoots him a pitiful look in the near darkness, Billy’s fingers brush her numb lips again. Her stomach flips when she opens for them, but she denies the shame in her cheeks as she bobs her head on thick fingers, sucks and laps at them to get them wet again. Just as before, Billy jams his hand between them to smear Max’s spit on his cock. It’s sticky and gross, but the moment burning friction disappears, Max’s hips are back at it. </p><p>Billy takes her hips this time. Shoving his hands under her dress, Billy’s fingers dig into her as his strength guides her.</p><p>“Like that,” he sighs. “Move your hips more like that, you don’t gotta mmm… You don’t gotta move so fast, that’s not gonna get you there.”</p><p>“I don’t know if I can do it,” she admits, head hanging low, her spirits about to fall. It feels good, but… “Everything just feels too different. I can’t…”</p><p>Grumbling, Billy peels a hand off her. The other remains with harsh fingers digging into the milkiness of her hips, coaching her through the rhythm Billy wants. She follows him blindly so long as it feels good. The slick sound of spit, and then wet fingers wiggle between velvet flesh once more. Only this time Billy’s hand lingers, his blunt fingertips drumming over her clit and touching her directly. Max’s rhythm stutters, but a growl from the shadows below her encourages her to keep going. Keep it up or else. Max’s own snarl has no holding power as she seeks friction against Billy’s cock and fingers. Her heart leaps around inside her when those same fingers squeeze around her clit, pinching it. It’s big enough for Billy to do that without fumbling, now. It’s better than any failed attempt of hers to pleasure herself. When Max’s hips buck on top of Billy, driving her harder into his fingers, they know this is how they’ll get her off. It’s never been about her pleasure before. She feels the difference this time, closes her eyes to the dark interior of the Camaro and just… relaxes. </p><p>Distantly over her panting and the rush of blood in her ears, Max thinks she hears Billy murmur, “That’s it, just like that, feels good, doesn’t it?”</p><p>All she can manage is a weak nod and a breathy, “More.”</p><p>She continues to rut against Billy, keen on making him shake and moan under her, too. She probably won’t get him off like this, but she’ll offer her hand or anything else once she’s done. Close, so close, closer than she’s been since the last time Billy had touched her back in San Diego. That familiar tightness winds up in her with every pinch of ugly fingers around her, every stroke of Billy’s thumb. With a whimper bitten back, Max recalls him comparing her clit to a dick. He certainly tries to stroke it like one, like she’s seen him play with himself. Each flick of his thumb is another twist to the spring about to break inside her. Breaths coming faster, her voice leaking into them, Max clings to him for all she’s worth as she teeters on the edge.</p><p>“More, don’t stop, Billy…” Max hangs her head like she can see them rubbing together under her dress. His thumb flicks mean and fast over her clit until she’s shaking. Fists beating against his chest, she cries, “I wanna come!”</p><p>“Gonna make a mess,” Billy mumbles more to himself than her.</p><p>And she does. It only takes a few more harsh rubs of Billy’s thumb to finally tip the scales in Max’s favor. Her nails dig into his chest with wild abandon, sure to leave angry marks when Max bucks in his lap. The first shriek that bursts from her lips fogs the air. It’s only grown colder in the Camaro, idling this whole time in park. Max’s head tips back as she jolts with every messy gush between her legs, surely soaking Billy’s dick and the front of his jeans. If she could do anything other than writhe with feeble jerks of her body against Billy’s skin, she’d probably drown in shame. Because this has never happened before. Billy knew it was coming, knew what her body would do when it finally found release. Whimpering now as the rush peters out, heart pounding away in her chest, Max tries to curl up on Billy’s chest.</p><p>He doesn’t let her linger. No, Billy jostles Max’s pliant weight in his hands, shoving both between them. A smack to her thigh pops her hips back up and away from him. Cool air is happy to slip awful fingers under Max’s dress to caress where she’s still dripping on him. In hindsight, Billy’s early gruff command that she take her panties off had been a good idea. They’d be ruined for the drive home. She’ll be sore anyway from kneeling on top of him and rutting against him for so long. It takes so much more, so much longer she could just cry. At least he can still make her feel good. He’ll take his pleasure, now. She knows it before Billy grunts with his hands straining to line them up. Max’s earlier fear about being too tight and dry is long gone. He slides in like a dream, like they’re made for each other.</p><p>A low, “Fuck,” pops out of him in the dark as Max slides down, down, down until she’s nestled in his lap once more.</p><p>Max groans, “Billy,” before Billy’s hands take her waist, so familiar, and slam her up and down on him.</p><p>Now they rock the car together. More so when Max throws her hands to the roof above to hold on to something. Otherwise she may bash her head as Billy thunders into her. It’s been months for him, too. Not months since he got off, of course, but months since he got off to her. Even now he groans below her in the dark and mutters all manner of madness and obsession. That she’s his, she’ll always be his, no one else can have her, he’ll kill anyone who tries. His hips smack into her bottom with enough force to pop out little whimpers every time. It’s all Max can do to focus on the feel of him gliding into her like he used to. No pain from skin catching. Just the hollow ache from him using her after she’s come. She won’t come again, but him using her and groaning so loudly, so wildly makes her shiver. She just wants him to find pleasure in her like he used to. So he won’t leave.</p><p>A sweaty hand tangles in the front of Max’s dress, yanking her down. That changes the angle, sends his fat head to nail her in all the right places every time. Max cries in the humid air between them until Billy gets his lips on her, eating his name and cries for harder, faster that pour out of her. His hips start to stutter, slamming hard to sink himself as deep as he’ll go. Max laps up his moans, too, shivers with excitement as his calls start to go long and lower as he nears the end. It’s a familiar sound, him bellowing in her face. Normally he has to bite it all back, swallow his calls so no one else hears them. They’re alone together in the Camaro. Safe. He can scream if he wants to.</p><p>Thrusts freezing for a second before his hips grind into her, Billy slurs between kisses, “Love you, baby.” He groans and snaps his teeth at Max’s bottom lip when they go to take a breath together. More lucid and panting a little calmer, he says again, “I’m the only one who loves you. Got it?”</p><p>No snarl, no growl from her. Just hard nodding of Max’s head before Billy drags her back into harsh kisses by her hair. Max squirms on her knees with him still in her. Not soft enough or messy enough to go slipping out. No knot locks them together, although not for a lack of trying. Max’s breath had frozen in her mouth when she felt Billy try to swell up, try to lock in her. No go, though, and now he rides out the aftershocks of his loud orgasm with little grinds into her. They’ll need a shower when they get back to Cherry Lane. They’re sticky and stink exactly like what they’ve done. Hopefully it’s not too late. Hopefully Neil isn’t waiting for them in the front room when they sneak in.</p><p>“I mean it,” Billy drawls sometime later, their clothes fixed as much as possible, cigarette smoke sucked out of the window. They’re almost home. Max can see the enclosed porch bathed in moonlight. “You hear me, Max?”</p><p>He doesn’t elaborate on any of it. Her belonging to him, him killing anyone who tries to take her away, him loving her. He’d said it tonight not during a moment of feverish madness but out of desperation. Desperate to claw her back to him, to keep her in the space he made for her at his side. He’s a bastard and a terror. He doesn’t love her like in a fairytale or some black and white movie on TV. It’s madness that possesses him. But Max believes at least that part. Some part of him understands love and feels that for her. She trusts Billy’s madness more than his words, and so she nods without saying anything.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>He shoves her towards the bathroom when they tiptoe into the house. A peek out the window near the back door reveals Susan’s car but not Neil’s pickup. They’ve escaped discovery, so Max languishes in the shower. Little hands pet Billy’s soap and shampoo over her, and Max stands there enjoying the hot water as she soaks conditioner into her hair. At least until Billy pounds on the door, hisses that their parents are home, hurry up, he smells, stop playing with herself. Max just rolls her eyes and rinses everything off, tucks a hand between her legs to make absolutely sure she’s clean. She can’t have Mom smelling Billy on her when Mom surely asks about the dance, how it went, if she had fun. Max can hardly wait for the kiss to her forehead and Mom to shut the door behind her, plunging Max into darkness with a soft ‘goodnight.’</p><p>She must wait for the house to grow still and quiet to tiptoe from her bed. It’s a grueling wait, an hour crawling past like syrup dripping down a bottle. They’ve not lived here long enough for Max to suss out all the floorboards that would betray her. So it’s a fast, nervous creep to the front of the house where Billy’s bedroom door rests shut. Even if he’s asleep, she’ll poke her nose in. His room is dark, stinks a little like his clothes and what they’d done tonight. He’s clean, though. Max had loitered in her room while Billy showered. It was as good a time as any to hide her dirty laundry and indulge her mom seeking details of the Snow Ball tonight. Snorting as she nudges Billy’s bedroom door shut behind her, Max is pretty sure Mom was more excited for her to go than she was. At least tonight wasn’t a total loss.</p><p>Billy stirs like a cat from sleep when Max sinks a knee into his mattress. He knows it’s her by scent alone, scoops her up by her hips to drag her between him and the wall. Just like at the San Diego house, he always sandwiches her against a wall while they sleep. His spot. Billy huffs as he shoves her around how he wants her, iron of his chest pressed so smoothly to her back. He’s naked except underwear, a furnace even through her sleep shirt. Billy pays it no mind as he curls an arm around her and slides his hand up and down her belly. Next comes the snuffling at the nape of her neck. Max already throws a hand into her hair to gather up the wavy locks and pull them out of Billy’s way. They smell like each other. That won’t stop him from kissing and biting her until he falls asleep.</p><p>“Billy?”</p><p>A grunt in her neck between soft, wet kisses.</p><p>Bottling her shiver, Max rubs back into him in kind and asks, so small and quiet, “You’re not gonna go back to ignoring me when we wake up tomorrow… right?”</p><p>Billy pinches the soft skin under Max’s navel, slurs in her neck, “No, you little brat. Shut up and go to sleep.”</p><p>“Asshole.”</p><p>Billy rolls some of his weight onto her, trapping Max’s legs under his, and purrs, “You love me, don’t be like that.”</p><p>“I do not,” she hisses back.</p><p>“Sure, whatever.” Another bite to her neck and then, “Go to sleep.”</p><p>It’s not until Billy’s breaths go long and slow in Max’s hair that she stirs. Heart tight and climbing into her throat, nervous, she turns under Billy’s arm. When he remains deep in slumber, Max tucks herself under his chin and tightly to his chest, burrowing into him. He grumbles in his sleep but does nothing more than fix his arm looped around her. Trapped tightly to the warmth and stink of him, Max rubs her jaw over Billy’s heart. It’s how he’s marked her for years, broadcasting to anyone and everyone that she belonged to him. And now he’s hers, too. Max nuzzles Billy in the dark and bottles a snort when he grumbles, tightens his arm around her. Max has no idea how this is going to work or for how long. For now? She has him. </p>
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